


repertoire

by callmearcturus



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Atlas President Rhys, Corporate propaganda and manipulation, M/M, Mixing business and pleasure for maximum destruction, Multi, Queen Bee AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmearcturus/pseuds/callmearcturus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honey, blood, and gunmetal: To make it in the corporate world, you need an abundance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: An Interview with New Atlas's CEO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _repertoire_  
>  1\. A stock of skills, items, or types of behavior that a person habitually uses.  
> 2\. A stock of plays, dances, or pieces that a company or a performer knows.

**The Weight of the World on his Shoulders: An interview with Atlas CEO Rhys Sommerset**

by Yvette Lacroix

 

> _Ambition Quarterly_ ’s series on the most influential omegas in the six galaxies continues this month. Last issue, we spoke to Maliwan’s President Moxxi Hartford about how she vaulted to the top of her corporation’s ranks with her business acumen, her highly publicized marriage to arms dealer Marcus Kincaid, and her children’s successful chain of mechanics shops, subsidiary of Maliwan itself.
> 
> It’s only fitting that this issue we take a look at another omega in the same echelon as Ms. Hartford. The Atlas Corporation was just ten years ago a flaming wreckage of its former self after its expeditions to Pandora resulted in tragedy. From those ashes has come what’s being colloquially referred to as New Atlas, the revival of the corporation. Four years ago, Atlas’ stock price was practically in the negatives. Today, as of publishing, it’s been in the top twenty for two years and in the top ten for eight months. Their first full line of weapons since their downfall is set to debut before the end of the year.
> 
> The miraculous turnaround has been universally attributed to the new CEO, Rhys Sommerset. Not only is Sommerset the first omega CEO in Atlas history, but he’s the first omega on Atlas’ board of executives. It’s hard not to draw a line of causation between this fact and Atlas’ return to the big leagues.
> 
> When asked about the connection during a visit to the main research and development facility on Pandora, Rhys Sommerset was not so keen on the correlation, but admitted, “Rebuilding something like Atlas takes a certain skillset and nurturing that is more common among omegas, sure. But anyone could have done it if they had the determination and, haha, the  _years_ of work to dedicate to it.”
> 
> Experts have pointed out that New Atlas barely resembles its predecessor. Once the tyrant of corporate warfare, its collapse has lead to a more consolidated successor. Atlas’ 158 disparate facilities across the stars have been bought and sold and (in the case of Hyperion and DAHL) conquered by their rivals. Today, Atlas boasts a staggeringly small five facilities, with their central operations taking place in the borderlands on Pandora itself.
> 
> “Well, it’s sort of a statement, isn’t it?” Sommerset said from his office in that very facility. “This was the planet that killed Atlas, everyone knows it. It was important to me to make sure this was where we came from when we returned.”
> 
> From his office, Pandora hardly seems like the terrestrial disaster that’s brought so many big names to their knees. The Old Haven facility is as modern and secure as Hartford’s Maliwan HQ this reporter visited just months ago. Through the window over Sommerset’s shoulder, the view of green plains and a drip-dye sunset would rival the vistas of Dionysus and Eden-4.
> 
> “Every other company that’s tried to dig into Pandora has failed. I mean, all due respect to Hyperion, but Helios is in Lagrangian orbit and is closer to _Elpis_ than Pandora. Even Handsome Jack doesn’t dare mess with this place.”
> 
> Speaking of his competition, we asked about being an omega in a field dominated by alphas. “Oh, _domination_ is a strong word. One alphas like to use a lot, I guess. But there’s a lot of ways to maintain control and to steer things in business and in…” Pausing, Sommerset laughed. “Wait, this is sounding like one of those anonymous columns in a– a sexy magazine now, sorry! But you know what I mean, right? Like, even in relationships, omegas can have all the power. Just in a different way from alphas and betas. Or, in my experience, we certainly can.
> 
> “Atlas today is much smaller than it once was, and it’s smaller than a lot of other corporations. The Torgue satellite has something like five thousand employees. Helios is closer to _twenty_ thousand residents, though I’m not sure how many of them just live there and how many are employees. This facility has about 800 people, and that’s including employees, families, and contracted help.
> 
> “I’m not just going on a tangent, I promise. My point is that… I have nothing but respect for Handsome Jack and Mr. Jakobs and Mr. Torgue, but their corporate structures are just _different_ from Atlas’. So they need different management styles. I couldn’t run Hyperion like I run Atlas, for example, but I wouldn’t want to either.” Grinning, Sommerset added, “And I don’t think anyone could run Atlas like I do either. So I’ve got good job security.”
> 
> The topic of Atlas’ competition led to a much discussed point in business circles: Atlas’ future among the big names. Speculation about the comparatively small corporation being purchased by Maliwan or Hyperion has dominated the press. Sommerset was quick to discourage any rumors of mergers and buy-outs. “People have made offers,” he said. “I don’t even read them. Not interested.”
> 
>  
> 
> _(Rhys Sommerset, pictured left and above, at the Old Haven Atlas facility on Pandora. In the background, Sommerset’s personal robotic bodyguard, “Elbie.”)_
> 
>  
> 
> The press around Rhys Sommerset hasn’t just been restricted to his meteoric rise to the top. As an unbonded omega in a position of power, a lot of eyes have been on the CEO. When asked about it, Sommerset confided that being on Pandora helped. “Not many tabloids out here.”
> 
> That hasn’t wholly prevented coverage of his personal affairs. It begs the question of him, if there is anyone special in his life.
> 
> “None more special than my employees, as sappy as that probably sounds.”
> 
> Just months ago, tabloid newsfeed _The Flashbang_ shared an exclusive from Atlas; leaked promotional material starring Sommerset himself, meant for limited circulation among Atlas employees. Many of the pictures, all of professional quality and suspected to be taken by Atlas’ on-staff photographer, feature the CEO in very candid situations. While none of the leaked material has contained outright nudity, more than a few have skirted the line of decency. One well-circulated photograph of Sommerset shows him just out of a hot shower, dressed in only a robe, looking far from his normal image of a sharply dressed executive officer.
> 
> “Oh, _god_ , I can’t believe that got out,” Sommerset said, visibly flustered at the topic. “Okay, this is… Atlas is small, and we have a lot of employee incentives and intra-company material shared. Morale is very important here. The photos started as a _joke_ when some of the alternates from an ad campaign got shared around among the engineers. So we… took more? It’s a monthly thing, it’s harmless, but…” Here, Sommerset stopped to cover his face. “Outside Atlas culture, I totally understand what it looks like. It’s not like that, though.”
> 
> Sommerset’s opinion on the leaks hasn’t affected the public reaction to them, however, and the omega’s attractiveness hasn’t escaped the notice of many news outlets. In January, Rhys Sommerset was number seven in _The Flashbang_ ’s list of Sexiest Omegas, slotted in among models and vid stars.
> 
> When asked about it, Sommerset only laughed. “That… certainly happened, yeah. I’m not sure what to say about that. I appreciate it? I’d like to thank my stylist and make-up team, but I don’t have one, haha. Maybe I should thank my parents?”
> 
> There’s a more sinister side to it, of course. Image has been a vital part of running a corporation, a trend set by Handsome Jack’s takeover of Hyperion and the subsequent rebranding. Being the head of a corporation has since then been as much about what the leadership looks like as what they do.
> 
> “It’s not too bad,” Sommerset said, shrugging, about how he deals with the scrutiny. “I don’t mind dressing up nice, and as for staying in shape… I have a lot of people willing to help me… _work off steam_ , which helps a lot.”
> 
> Referring to a personal trainer? Sommerset laughed, quickly turning red in the face. “That’s… not precisely what I mean, but you can print that instead, yeah.”
> 
> While it would be unkind to pursue that line of questioning, a similar topic can hardly be ignored. Just days before this interview, anonymous reports from within Atlas emerged, apparently from a freelancer who’d spent months in the central Atlas facility on Pandora.
> 
> As covered initially by _Ambition Monthly_ ’s sister site, _The Weekly Buzz_ , the source called the atmosphere of New Atlas, “unsettling,” and compared the CEO’s oversight to the rulings of “some kind of sex cult leader, with fraternization and inappropriate behavior so ingrained in the workbase, they never seem to question it.”
> 
> Sommerset’s face grew solemn at the suggestions as we discussed the rumors. “This is like the photo thing. It’s an internal culture thing. I don’t see a lot of coverage of Hyperion’s _retirement policy_ or the lengths Jakobs goes to prevent their employees from leaving. Like, seriously, Jakobs could open a side business in cement shoes.
> 
> “Look, every one of my employees is important to me. I believe in cultivating a very close-knit community based on mutual trust. A trust that this _anonymous source_ violated in some petty revenge scheme when their services were no longer needed. And yeah, I know who the source is. He’s an asshole, and you can print that.”
> 
> Substantiated or not, the stories about Rhys Sommerset continue to grow as he becomes a household name. It’s hard to deny his magnetism and his ability to lead his corporation, rising it from certain death. With a unique leadership style, Sommerset proves to be an example that omegas can rule just as ably as alphas and betas.
> 
> Next issue, we’ll profile another influential omega. Stay tuned! **-Y.L.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a prologue to set that stage, the rest of the fic will not be in this style. Also, it might take me some time to get it rolling-- it's Black Friday week, and your humble author works in retail. Wish me luck.


	2. refined sugar

Jack’s life went to hell when Torgue showed up for brunch with an omega rentboy on his arm.

Wait. Rewind.

The thing about being one of the most fabulously wealthy and powerful people in the universe was that you couldn’t really relate to the little guy anymore. Sometimes, when in a position like Jack’s, you wanted to have an actual conversation with someone, and while stacks of cash were great company, they were terrible at small talk.

To that end, there was a monthly brunch. It took place at a fantastic breakfast joint on a satellite that was vaguely equidistant from the various manufacturer’s headquarters, enough it could be considered neutral ground. For Jack, it was a two hour flight by luxury spacecraft. Torgue’s trip was apparently five hours, but his transport was probably powered by dynamite or something stupid like that.

Jack called it the AOB Brunch. Moxxi called it the OBA Brunch. Torgue didn’t care, so long as there were waffles for him to eat. But the name had been a given when the brunch group had been shaved down to just the three of them. Naming it after their endotypes just made sense.

The rules were simple; leave your personal firearms on your transport. No assassination attempts. Pay for your part of the check and help with the tip. _Don’t_ bring any work with you, the table’s not big enough for it.

DAHL had been kicked out after the Lost Legion fiasco started a veritable blood feud between them and Hyperion. Jakobs was thrown to the curb when he’d broken rule two and tried to murder Moxxi before the bloody marys.

So, it was just the three of them, and that suited Jack fine.

Moxxi was always the first to arrive at the brunch, no matter how punctual Jack was. He suspected she just showed up early to start drinking without judgement, but he had no proof of that.

“Jack,” Moxxi purred as he arrived and took his chair at the table. “I would say you looked good, but for all I know you haven’t changed since our last brunch.”

“Mox,” Jack greeted with a grin. “How’re the twins?”

She shot him a dry look over her glass. “Is this the part where I tell you they’re doing fine and you ask after my children next?”

“I’m sorry, is that joke not highbrow enough for Maliwan?”

She rolled her eyes. “Largest corporate budget in the universe and you can’t afford an adult sense of humor.”

“I think it’s _plenty_ adult, Mox.” Relenting, Jack picked up a menu. “What’s the special this time?”

“Golden mangos from Demophan made into sauce, mint and apple toasted sandwiches. I’ve ordered it, it looks good.” She smirked slightly. “And I took care of Torgue’s usual.”

“You know, I’ve _had_ the waffles. They’re okay but not worth having every single time I friggin’ come here.”

“It’s what he wants,” Moxxi said. “Have to respect a man who knows what he likes.”

Jack shot her a glare. It was hard to tell if Moxxi talked up Torgue just to mess with him or if she was interested in the musclehead. He really hoped it was the former; Maliwan and Torgue on their own were not competition to Hyperion, but together they could be trouble.

It wasn’t until after Jack had ordered his skillet that Torgue finally joined them.

And, for the first time, he brought company along.

Technically, bringing a plus one wasn’t against the rules of the AOB Brunch, but it hadn’t happened since Jakobs was ousted and thus couldn’t bring his wife along to the meet-up. Which, good riddance, that woman was _terrifying_.

Today, Torgue walked into the private room, and hanging on his beefy arm was one of the prettiest omegas Jack had ever seen. The two made a hilariously mismatched pair, with Torgue in his jeans and flannel shirt, muscles nearly bursting from the sleeves. His guest, on the other hand, looked _expensive_ , with a closely fit black vest, dark silk shirt, and glowing buttons and and trim along his pants. The man’s right hand was cybernetic, the surface a polished silver-gold alloy that caught the light as he moved.

He even _smelled_ pricey, his omega scent accented with something like honey and clove, vaguely floofy but sweet. Jack usually didn’t like the whole scent mod thing popular with omegas, because there was no way anyone naturally smelled that good, but the whole package made something in him want to sit up and go _woof_.

“Jack, Moxxi. Sorry to hold us up, you would not _believe_ the traffic out of spacedock three, it’s nuts!” Torgue boomed, as loud and jovial as ever. “Brought a friend, hope that’s fine.”

Torgue’s _friend_ lifted his hand, waving with a soft smile. “Hello. I’m not intruding, am I?”

Jack couldn’t resist letting out a low whistle. “Hey there, pretty. Haven’t seen you around before.”

“Have you not?” Whatever that meant, it waited as Torgue pulled out a chair for his plus one, gentlemanly for such a big lug.

To Jack’s delight, the newcomer ended up sitting next to him. Jack didn’t waste any time, putting his hand over his wrist and leaning in. “Whatever Torgue is paying you to be on his arm, I can double it.”

The pretty omega blinked with naked surprise, recovering fast with a sharp laugh. “You couldn’t afford me, Hyperion.”

That was a _challenge_. Jack leaned back in his chair to tuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. “Don’t be so sure, babe. And don’t pretend you don’t know my name. Keep it in mind, you’ll be screaming it later.”

Tilting his head, the omega lifted his eyebrows. Now, Jack could see one of his eyes was cybernetic took, an orangey gold that actually matched his clothes. “Has that line ever worked on _anyone_?”

On his other side, Moxxi groaned in pure exasperation. “Oh _god_ , I am _so sorry_ for him. Jack, put that _away_.” She slapped his arm hard. “We keep trying to put a muzzle on him, but he never stays in it long enough.”

The omega’s eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer to Moxxi. “Ms. Hartford, it’s nice to meet you. I’m a big fan and Torgue’s said only nice things.”

Torgue took his seat next to his guest, somehow fitting his body into the fancy wrought iron chair. It was like watching a Saint Bernard settle into a shoebox. “It’s hard to say anything else. Moxxi’s great, I knew you’d like her, Rhys.”

 _Rhys_. That name rang a bell. Only a small bell, though, and Jack frowned at Moxxi.

She was already watching him, and sighed at the lack of recognition on his face. “Jack,” Moxxi said slowly. “This is Rhys Sommerset, the new CEO of Atlas.”

Huh. Jack had heard that Atlas was back and actually clawing its way back up, but it was difficult to take that news seriously, given the sheer extent to which the corporation had crashed and burned a decade ago.

He looked at Rhys with renewed interest. Either the kid was putting on some serious airs or Atlas was doing _well_ for itself lately.

“Torgue mentioned the waffles here were great…” One hand touched his mouth as he looked over the menu.

“They are, they’ve got _awesome_ vanilla in ‘em. It’s like a roundhouse kick to the mouth while live metal plays in the background,” Torgue expounded. “And they have whipped honey butter.”

Rhys nodded along. “I _do_ like honey...”

Moxxi hummed and leaned forward on the table, doing that _thing_ with her arms that made her breasts even more obvious. Jack flicked his gazes between them and her face, before just staring at her rack. It was a shame she wouldn’t sleep with him anymore. He missed her. Or, them, really.

“If you’re looking for something a _little_ more refined, sugar,” she said, tapping Rhys’ menu with one violet-painted nail, “The ricotta tart with the dates and almonds is _lovely_.”

Rhys let out what could only be called a giggle. “Refined-- that’s funny. I mean,” he coughed, face pink.

Torgue leaned over and said in a stage whisper, “I’ll share a waffle with you.”

“Mr. Flexington, you’re a lifesaver,” Rhys replied in the same tone. “Sure, I’ll try that, thank you, Ms. Hartford.”

Orders placed, drinks arrived, and Jack tried not to be too sullen about sucking at his mint julep. With Atlas’ presence at the table, everyone’s attention was on him, and Jack was resisting the urge to do something to change that. Maybe yank the tablecloth off the table or demand an arm wrestling rematch with Torgue.

The only thing that kept him quiet was the glances Rhys offered him, little askance looks accompanied by the subtlest bite against his lower lip.

 _Huh_. Jack tried to figure out what to do with that, how to translate it into something sexier. But outside the wandering eyes, Rhys was giving him _nothing_.

Jack grimaced and crunched some ice between his teeth, earning a glare from Moxxi. He held her gaze and crunched louder, until she sighed and looked away.

“You know,” she said, smiling at Rhys. “I read the extended interview you did with Yvette, sugar. You said some lovely things.”

“Of course I did,” Rhys said between sips of his drink. “I mean, lets be honest, Ms. Hartford. If you hadn’t proven an omega could lead a corporation, the Atlas board probably wouldn’t have taken a chance on me.”

“Call me Moxxi, honey.”

Silently, Jack rolled his eyes at the whole display.

“Oh, okay. Moxxi. I’m sure I could learn a lot from you, from how you hold down the fort.”

More out of boredom than anything, Jack interrupted. “I could teach you a thing or two too, pumpkin.”

Rhys blinked guilelessly at him. “Like what?”

Moxxi tittered into her rossini, looking entirely too pleased. Jack tried to shoot her a dirty look, but her attention was still on Rhys, this time _inviting_ him to Maliwan HQ of all things, like they were already thick as thieves. Friggin’ omegas.

Hoping he’d want to commiserate with him a little, Jack looked past Rhys at Torgue. However, Torgue just grinned like he’d found a shiny new penny to show off for class.

Jack turned away, signalling the waitress to refill his damn drink. He hoped his food arrived soon. He wanted to stab something.

 

* * *

 

Next month, there was another brunch, and for once, Moxxi was _late_.

Not super late, because this was still Moxxi, but she was the last to arrive at the table. She stalked in, her heels like war drums on the wooden floors before she slammed her purse onto the table, rattling the silverware. “So, that little _bitch_ from Atlas stole one of my engineers.” She sat down, arms crossed over her chest as she glared daggers at Torgue. “The head of my elemental shielding research. _Four months_ before we were set to go to market.”

Torgue’s sunglasses slid down his nose, his dark eyes wide with surprise. “Rhys? No, that doesn’t sound like him.”

Her red lips part around her teeth in an expression entirely unlike a smile. “Your pretty little pal let me tour him around Maliwan HQ and take him out to dinner. We talked about business and the omega struggle in the business world, laughed together about Jack’s terrible dress sense.”

Jack grunted. He could’ve protested, but this was _interesting_.

“ _Then_ , before he left for Pandora, he _fucked_ my engineer. The guy put in his notice the next day and was on a flight out the next week.”

Quieter, less sure, Torgue said, “That… _really_ doesn’t sound like Rhys.”

Jack snorted, covering his mouth as his shoulders shook. “Damn, Moxxi. You got honeytrapped.”

“Next time I see that snake, I’m skinning him and making him into a pair of boots,” she growled.

“Can’t handle a taste of your own medicine, huh, Mox?” For that, Jack got a punch in the arm. It _hurt_ too, and he fought not to react and rub the spot. “Geez, you’re pissed. Can dish it, can’t take it.”

“Jack, either shut up or make yourself useful for once in your life!”

He lifted his eyebrows. “ _Me_? What can I do? You want me to go fuck your engineer too, see if I can swing him to Hyperion?”

“Nevermind, you’re…” Suddenly, Moxxi _stopped_ , stilling so absolutely, she looked like a freeze frame. “That’s it.”

“Oh crap,” Jack said, reaching for his drink.

“Jack. Honey.”

“ _No_. Make Torgue do it, whatever it is, this is all his fault.”

Torgue looked pained. “I’ve known Rhys for months now, he’s never been anything but nice!”

Ignoring him, Moxxi’s hand curled over Jack’s wrist, her nails tracing lightly over the line of his tattoo. “Jack, when was the last time you completely destroyed a rival? Hasn’t it just been _ages_?”

He couldn’t contain his hard laugh. “Atlas isn’t a rival, Mox.”

“Two years ago, Atlas was a cautionary tale! Today, he’s got them at a 15% market share with a _fraction_ of our budgets. You want to wait and see if he just slows down on his own?”

“What do you want me to do about it? Have him killed? Do it yourself.”

Across the table, Torgue let out an upset noise. Jack rolled his eyes. “Relax. No one’s going to kill him, big guy. Be a waste of perfectly good eye candy.”

Moxxi’s nails dug in sharply. “There are multiple ways to destroy someone, Jack. And I just _know_ you want a go at that boy, don’t you?” Her fingers walked along his arm, too calculated for it to be an idle gesture. “He _is_ very pretty, isn’t he? What could be more fun? Your old rival, risen from the ashes, lead by a dishy little thing...”

That… was a little more interesting. Jack shrugged off Moxxi’s hands, and she let go without a fuss, like she _knew_ he was thinking about it. Because yeah, Rhys was hot, and Atlas deserved to be ground into the dry cracked dirt of Pandora once again for having the audacity to not stay dead.

Jack nodded along. “I _am_ an alpha, and Atlas _is_ a hot young omega… I could make that work.”

Moxxi let out a soft sigh. “Normally, I would shut down that kind of backwards thinking, but… please do. I hate that conniving little shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to wonder if I can _stop writing_ for 24 hours. I'm sorry for possibly inundating y'all with fic. I am actually trying to slow my roll but it's not happening.  >.>
> 
> ALSO two people have made fanart based off this AU and the Queen Bee aesthetic, holy crap. [Look](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/133804950915/palomitas-comiendo-palomitas)! [Look](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/133805127065/alizardinlaw-precious-honey-too-sweet-for-you-to)!


	3. grenadine

Rhys absolutely hated shuttle rides. It didn’t matter if they were terrestrial or starbound, the experience of being in a small sealed box hurtling through space at high speed left him feeling unwell. It was the worst part of his job, but a necessary evil. Sometimes, he needed to put in facetime with the board, or needed to take care of some business off-site.

Sometimes, Atlas needed help catching up on shield research and Rhys had to go convince an expert to join the cause. Things like that.

Today was another mandatory shuttle ride. Atlas was ready to get back into the arms race, but the industry had evolved in the meantime; now, eridium technology was the cutting edge for weapons.

And Hyperion held the patent. If Atlas wanted to be competitive with the other manufacturers, they _needed_ an e-tech license.

And of course when Rhys tried to secure one and filed for the license, Handsome Jack himself had sent back a reply, inviting him to Helios.

Upside: Rhys could get a closer look at the big H that overlooked Pandora every minute of every day. Downside: shuttle ride.

Rhys clutched the arms of his seat as they flew into Helios airspace, eyes nearly shut as he tried very hard not to look out the window or acknowledge where he was. If he kept still, he could ignore everything around him and pretend he was back in his office, on solid ground.

“Elbie,” Rhys said through his teeth. “Please just shoot me.”

His companion, a huge bipedal robot with an Atlas-branded chassis, a single wide orange eye, and shiny chrome detailing to match Rhys, fixed his eye on Rhys for a moment. “Treatment of a bodily injury would put us behind schedule for our meeting with Handsome Jack.”

“It’d make me feel better.”

Elbie’s aperture closed slightly, the robotic equivalent of narrowing his eyes. “I do not believe that’s true.”

“I think I liked you more before you developed insubordination.”

“Were that the truth, you would have reprogrammed me years ago.”

Rhys smiled and leaned his head back against his seat. “Details, details.”

The trip to Helios was luckily not a very long one, and soon they were being hailed by the Hyperion flight control and guided to one of the hangar bays. It was only when the shuttle landed that Rhys relaxed, slowly opening his hands and letting go of his seat. Standing, he picked up his coat, the black one with the gold filigree, and shrugged into it.

Next to him, Elbie walked to the door, heavy feet thumping against the floor. He leaned forward, peering through the window. “Rhys. It appears Handsome Jack has come to greet us himself.”

Rhys blew out a breath, smoothing down his clothes with both hands. “Not unexpected. I mean, he should probably _pretend_ he’s too busy, but.” Smiling, he dragged his fingers briskly through his hair and walked to the door. If Handsome Jack couldn’t fake being impartial to Rhys, that was a nice boon. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“I do not like this,” Elbie said, but left ahead of Rhys, bodyguard subroutines taking over flawlessly.

Stepping onto Helios was an experience. Rhys wasn’t going to show it, but the place was impressive, was _beautiful_. From Pandora, it’d always looked like a shining jewel in the sky. The effect wasn’t much lessened by the close proximity; even in a place like the hangar bay with all its traffic, the lights were blue-bright and shimmered off all the silver metal. And the view of Pandora through the bay doors was…

Rhys turned to stare, indulging a moment. From afar, Pandora looked _beautiful_ , like a marble sphere on the horizon.

Next to him, he heard Elbie move, likely putting himself between Rhys and their esteemed host. “It’s fine, Elbie,” Rhys called.

Without looking, Rhys knew it was Handsome Jack joining him. The man’s scent was very distinctive, like gunpowder, but the kind used in fireworks more than firearms, something musky like damp wood underneath. He smelled like fire. It wasn’t bad.

“ _That_ ,” Jack said instead of a proper greeting, “looks like one of my bots. Albeit _super_ modified.”

“Elbie was a Hyperion bot left down on Pandora, near the Vault of the Destroyer,” Rhys explained. “I found him, fixed him up. Jailbroke his programming and wrote some more advanced routines.” He turned to look at Jack, smiling. “I’ve got a soft spot for things left behind on that planet.”

“No kidding, Atlas.” Jack stepped closer, putting himself in Rhys’ line of sight, apparently unable to deal with Rhys not looking at him for so long. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing off his arms with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His eyes trailed up and down Rhys’ body, about as subtle as a brick. “Guess we have that in common. Couldn’t miss the chance to rescue something pretty from that backwater planet.”

 _My backwater planet,_ Rhys thought vividly. “You know, the board wanted me to decline your invitation,” Rhys said. Jack lifted his eyebrows and leaned back on his heel, instantly confrontational. “They assumed I would be walking into a hostage situation.”

That made Jack grin, like the idea had occurred to him. “And still you came to see me. And here Mox was telling me I made a bad first impression.”

“Oh, you _totally_ did,” Rhys replied with mirth. “But I also figured you understood that a hostage situation would put your chances of seeing me naked into the negative thousands.”

It’d been a guess, saying it outright like that. For a second, Jack was still, enough that Rhys almost cursed himself for screwing up. But Jack barked a laugh, eyes bright and keen. “Yeah? And what are my chances right now, Atlas?”

“Better if you give me the tour.”

“That’s the plan,” Jack said. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and nodded to the door. “Follow me, pumpkin.”

Rhys fell into step with Jack, aware that Elbie was glaring at the back of his head. Yeah, yeah. So he was taking a few risks. Careful planning and subterfuge was better for people like Moxxi. Handsome Jack needed a more fluid plan.

And really, Rhys wasn’t even sure what his plan _was_ yet, just that it’d come to him. It always did.

There was a time when Rhys wanted to work for Hyperion. It was a lifetime ago now, but there was still some delight in getting to walk through Helios on the most executive of tours. The place looked like the inside of a diamond, shiny and geometric, an industrial look that managed to gleam just a little brighter than it should have.

It was dampened only by the people. They seemed perfectly nice, but… every person they passed was branded with Hyperion’s look; the colors or the shapes or the company’s lettering, _something_. At first, Rhys just assumed they were passing through an area of Helios that was predominately office space or something, but it kept happening.

Maybe Hyperion had a uniform policy. That was the kinder assumption to be made.

It was creepy, honestly. It made Rhys stare at the back of Jack’s head, contemplative. Did Hyperion feel the need to brand their people to remind them who they worked for? That implied such a measure was _needed_ , and that was... useful to Rhys.

Even outside vague ideas and opportunities for later, it was a helpful thing. The homogenous look of Hyperion meant Rhys stood out. It was easy to tell; universally, everyone they passed looked away from Jack, averting their gaze with a mix of fear and respect.

But most people glanced up curiously at Rhys. He did his best to smile for everyone, trying to project friendliness. It was hard to tell if it worked, given the close proximity to Jack.

Jack led Rhys to a metro station, one of many around Helios if the signs could be believed. “You want to get into the e-tech game, huh. That isn’t a small thing, you know. How many weapons labs you working with, Atlas?”

“Just the one right now,” Rhys answered. “We can handle it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jack said, clearly disbelieving. “Most advanced technology on the market, do you have the eridium to back it up? The experts?”

Rhys laughed, ducking his head. “You just wanna hand me the brochure, Jack?”

Jack smirked. “Your central facility has, what, five hundred people, princess? Only about half of them are actual staff, rest are residents, and only a fourth are your central R&D team.” He winked at Rhys’ surprised look. “Listen, I’m just trying to save you some expenditures. E-tech licenses aren’t cheap, you wanna get your money’s worth, doncha?”

The casual superiority grated, but Rhys just smiled. “You’ve been looking into me, Hyperion.”

“Just being a friendly neighbor.” Jack put a hand on Rhys’ shoulder, pulling him along to the train as it slowed in the station. As the doors opened, Jack whistled. “Everyone out! Actually important people here, clear the hell out.”

The car was about half full, but cleared out _fast_ , with people practically running each other down in their haste to vacate the area. It was over in seconds, leaving the car empty for them.

“Don’t have any transit at Atlas, do ya, princess?”

Rhys frowned, but said nothing as they settled onto the train. Jack stood, leaning against one of the poles. Rhys sat, crossing his leg over his knee. Elbie had to duck down to join them, but compressed down, leg joints folding for more space. Jack watched, eyes narrow.

“That doesn’t come standard.”

“Hm. Hyperion’s very impressive,” Rhys offered agreeably, linking his fingers together over his knee, sitting back with his shoulders slumped low. “Atlas has something Hyperion doesn’t, though.”

“And what’s that?”

“Me.” Rhys smiled up at Jack before turning to look out the window.

Quietly, he heard Jack murmur, “That so.”

 _Come and get me, Hyperion,_ Rhys thought as he smiled at his own reflection.

 

* * *

 

Hyperion R&D was _enormous_. It was like a city in of itself. Which Rhys had _known_ , logically, because it wasn’t hard to find information about Helios. The PR department was more than willing to put every one of the corporation’s accomplishments on display, for one. And with such an atmosphere of in-fighting and rivalry, information leaks were a weapon used liberally.

Hyperion seemed like a nightmare to run the more Rhys learned about it. And he’d thought about it.

It was different being there, though. Stepping out into the high ceilings and labyrinthine hallways. Rhys let some of his awe show on his face, just to see Jack puff up more in response.

The guy didn’t have a subtle bone in his body.

Hydroponics, terraformation technology, personal robotics, extrapersonal robotics, resource refinement, computation, spacecraft manufacture, teleportation, xenobiology, communications-- all sat off the left-hand path, according to the map on the wall just outside the train. To the right: weapons technology.

Jack lead him to the right, of course. But Rhys couldn’t resist glancing back the other way, down the path to everything else.

Later. Definitely later. As soon as he figured out the _how_ of later.

“I feel like I’m going to get lost in here,” Rhys said quietly.

“And what a tragedy that’d be, huh?” Jack smirked. “E-tech’s got its own wing. Weapons tech is diversified between the purple stuff and everything else. Basically, elite guns and the guns for everyone else who can’t afford the good stuff.”

Nodding along, Rhys peered through glass panes, letting his ECHOeye take in information for him to sift through later. “That’s good. I think Atlas will focus on the top clients and users. It’s good someone’s providing for the rest of the market.”

Jack shot him a sharp look. “You’ve got one hell of a mouth, don’t you, Atlas?”

“Kind of you to notice,” Rhys said, letting his teeth press down against his lower lip. It drew Jack’s gaze, because of course it did, and Rhys held his eyes lingeringly for a second before turning away.

Walking into the central e-tech lab went down like a gunshot fired into a full theater. The cavern of a room was filled with busy workers in lab coats and protective gear, and almost all of them froze in complete fright as Jack walked in and put two fingers in his mouth, whistling loud enough the sound echoed back at them. “Look alive, peons! Surprise inspection day, your _favorite_!”

“And is there where the magic happens?” Rhys asked, following a little hesitantly behind Jack. The atmosphere of the room had _changed_ , all eyes either on Jack or conspicuously on the floor. It was unsettling. Rhys didn’t like it at all.

Jack tossed a grin back over his shoulder. “Oh, I’ll show you where the magic happens later.” Then, almost in the same breath, clapped one scientist upside the head. “Fix your tie, what, did you dress in the dark?”

So in the deathly uncomfortable silence, Rhys got a close look at the e-tech process: refined eridium being superheated and poured out into molds with delicate wirework laid in; the subsequent cutting of the pieces with lasers; the _many_ variant effects of energy being fired through the eridium and how the precise shape and pattern of the pieces dictated elemental augment and velocity and shape of the fire.

Jack pulled on a glove before picking up a piece of eridium, one of the poured components. “Long process just to get here, Atlas. Sure you’re up for that? There’s still a demand for regular bullets. You know, the rest of the market?”

The piece was tossed to him, and Rhys caught it with his metal hand. It was heavier than it looked, dense, and glowed faintly against his chrome hand. This close, he could see the carefully placed filaments inside. It was beautiful work.

“I’m sure I’ll muddle through.” Turning, he made to hand the piece back to the technician standing at the laser cutter.

His eyes were on Jack’s shoes, however, and they fumbled the hand-off; the piece dropped to the floor, breaking cleanly into three pieces along the cleavage points of the eridium.

“ _Kalvin_ , you clumsy shit,” Jack growled, making the technician yelp, pressing themselves back against the machine as Jack prowled in close, stepping right onto the eridium, crushing it further.

Rhys backed away, crossing his arms as he put some distance between himself and Jack. The alpha loomed over Kalvin, making the other man arch back further. Boxed in, Kalvin squeaked as Jack reached over to turn on the laser cutter.

The laser flicked on, close enough to just singe the end of Kalvin’s ponytail.

With a press of a button, Jack redirected the laser, and it sliced the ponytail right off Kalvin’s head. “Huh. That’s as far as it goes. Lucky you.” Shutting it back off, Jack stalked away again, paying no heed to how his technician slumped to the ground, breathing hard. “Anyway, I think that’s everything…”

Rhys heard a hiccup to his left, turned to see an omega in a labcoat trying to make herself look smaller. Her eyes were clenched shut and wet.

Silently, Rhys tugged his gold handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to her. She blinked, looked at him nervously. He nodded, saying nothing until she took the folded silk. He stepped away from her, making distance, so when Jack turned back to him, he wasn’t standing near her anymore.

“That’s all you get, Atlas. Can’t have you learning any trade secrets.” Jack jerked his head to the door. “C’mon.”

Rhys kept quiet until they were out of the weapons wing and waiting for the train again before he spoke. “Is that… efficient? Scaring them until they wet themselves?”

For a moment, Jack didn’t seem to follow. Then, realization crossed his face all at once and he laughed. “Efficient? Yeah. _Hilarious_? Definitely.” He shifted until his sneakers were touching the tip of Rhys’ boots, leaning in to stare into Rhys’ eyes. “But you obviously don’t approve, do you, princess? Enlighten me, how do you handle the incompetent morons who dare to breathe your air?”

So that’s how it was. Rhys had heard the rumors, but first hand witness of Jack’s management style was something else entirely. Rhys looked away, bowing his head against the fierceness of Jack’s stare. “I have another approach. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Uh huh.” Jack turned to the open car that pulled in for them. “Okay, everyone off! Train’s mine now! Well, always was, but it’s _extra_ mine now. Move it!”

 

* * *

 

With the tour over and arbitrary Helios ‘daytime’ coming to a close, Jack walked Rhys to his guest suite. It was located in some expensive residential wing, the metal hallways giving way to glossy stone floors and imported wood walls, hanging light fixtures. It was terribly opulent in such a showy way, like an Eden mansion had been shoved into the space station.

“So the one thing that my people couldn’t dig up about Atlas,” Jack said, appropos to nothing as they walked together, “was where _you_ came from. You’d think Atlas grew you in a lab. There’s nothing on you anywhere.”

Rhys nodded. “That makes sense. Most records are probably gone. You curious, Hyperion?”

“Curious to know what a pretty thing like you is doing on Pandora, yeah. There’s bad neighborhoods, then there’s _that_ friggin’ shitheel of a planet.”

“It’s not the most riveting story. Nothing like uncovering the Vault of the Sentinel and predicting the appearance of eridium.”

Jack stepped ahead of Rhys, turning to walk backward, eyes on him. “Flattery’s nice, Rhysie, but you’re dodging the question.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. “Because it’s not interesting. I was a software developer. Freelance, though. DAHL had me contracted on Pandora to help maintain the ECHOnet down there.”

“I can guess how that ended.” There was a dark undercurrent in Jack’s voice. Even after all this time, there was clearly no love lost between him and DAHL.

“With DAHL withdrawing half their people and leaving the rest to rot on Pandora? Yeah.” He smiled a little bitterly. “A low level freelancer wasn’t on the short list of must-recover assets, you can imagine.”

“ _Fuckin’_ DAHL,” Jack said with feeling.

“Yeah, no kidding. So I was left with no way off planet, no way to even contact anyone for a rescue. I mean, Hyperion was nearby, but you guys were busy with that invasion of yours at the time. It wasn’t long before bandits found my bolthole. I didn’t really--” Rhys slowed to a stop near one of the windows. While many windows overlooked the stars, this one faced inward, into the empty air inside Helios. Far below was what seemed to be an enormous shopping center, but it was far enough down that there was artificial weather between it and Rhys, cloud cover obscuring the view. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I didn’t stick around to see what they wanted.”

“Don’t blame you,” Jack said, oddly quiet, joining Rhys at the window. “You were alone?”

“Yeah. So. That was bad news. An omega on their own on a border planet, _and_ having worked for the people who forcibly moved a bunch of convicts to said planet for cheap labor? The first thing I did was ditch everything I had with DAHL’s name on it.” He tapped his nails lightly on the glass, looking at Jack’s reflection. Jack’s head was turned, looking at him.

“I lucked out, though. Stumbled onto an old Atlas facility in Old Haven. Place was a ghost town, and once I got inside, I found some things I could work with.” And other things, Rhys didn’t say, thinking of Gortys Project files that he was still reading through back on Pandora. “Eventually, the Atlas remnants figured out they had a squatter. I convinced them to let me try to rebuild. It wasn’t like they had anything left to _lose_.”

“And now you’re here,” Jack finished.

Rhys nodded, smiling. “And now I’m here. I told you it wasn’t interesting.”

“Oh, I’m _sure_ you didn’t leave out any pertinent details, Mr. Squatter Turned CEO,” Jack said dryly. “Come on, room’s just here.”

At the door Jack pushed open, Rhys hung back. “Elbie, if you would?”

“A moment, please,” Elbie intoned, stepping heavily past Jack and into the room.

Jack looked back at Rhys. “What, princess, don’t trust me?”

“Hyperion’s eridium boom came from the Vault Atlas opened for you,” Rhys said, leaning against the doorframe as Elbie scanned the room and checked it over for any obvious foul play. “You might not like that Atlas didn’t stay dead.”

Jack leaned on the opposite side of the doorframe, grinning. “Oh, I’m liking it plenty.”

“Clear, Rhys,” Elbie said, trundling back to the door. “Will we be retiring for the night?”

“Yep. Thanks, Elbie.” He patted the chest of Elbie’s chassis as he slipped by, into the room. “Goodnight, Jack.”

Behind him, he could hear Jack sputter, and stifled his laughter. There was a terse conversation between him and Elbie, but in a moment, Jack called, “Yeah, fine. ‘Night,” and the door closed with him on the other side.

Elbie turned around with three clunky steps. “What the hell was that?”

There were any number of things his companion could have been talking about. Jack himself, obviously. The panicked departure of the commuters. The entire e-tech lab visit.

Rhys walked around the room, spotting his suitcase sitting neatly by the bedroom door. Plush carpet was spread beneath his feet, soft when he toed off his boots and dug his socked feet into it. There was a small kitchen, a living area, a full bedroom, and a small bar, fully stocked with drinks. Everything from simple syrups to the sort of liquor that could take rust off the worst technical out in the Dust.

There was also, charmingly, a bowl full of cherries, bright pink-red, looking closer to plastic than anything edible. Rhys lifted the lid on the bowl and scooped out four, popping them into his mouth before licking the livid red syrup from his fingers.

On the bar, the centerpiece, was a sculpture of Helios itself. It was crystal and translucent, balanced at a slight angle, stood on one of the legs of the H.

Rhys dragged his finger against it, letting the stickiness cling to the sculpture. It teetered, and for a second Rhys thought about letting it fall to the floor.

He stopped, steadying it, and smiled slowly. “Welcome to Hyperion, Elbie,” he chirped brightly, looking back at Elbie over his shoulder. “Settle in. We have plenty to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i actually figured out why i am writing so much. it's because i'm alone for the holidays this year, and i'm sublimating that into being ultra productive. so that's the deal. sorry for inundating y'all with fic, i hope you like it at least.


	4. drunken honey

The trip back to his own penthouse was entirely too long, as far as Jack was concerned. It’d been a long day even before Atlas had shown up, and he’d been hoping for something for his trouble, but apparently Rhys wanted some more foreplay first.

That was fine. Jack could be patient. Especially considering what he had waiting for him back in his private office.

As soon as Jack made it home, he tossed his jacket over the sofa and poured himself a drink, just whiskey on the rocks. Carrying the glass to his office, Jack settled in, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk. His drink remained in his hand, and he sipped it as he woke up his computer and opened up the Helios security suite.

The room he’d put Rhys into was a very special room. It was intended for people like him, for competition and dignitaries and anyone worth keeping an eye on. The suite was wired up for surveillance, sound and video capture stashed in strategic locations around the room. When Rhys’ bot had checked the room over, Jack had wondered if it’d pick up on the surveillance. Lucky for him, apparently not.

Taking a sip of his drink, letting it sit across his tongue for a moment, Jack connected to the guest suite’s network, the feeds blinking on obediently as he settled in to watch.

“Okay, Atlas,” Jack murmured to the soft glow of the monitor, “give me a show.”

It took a second to find him. Rhys stepped out of the bathroom, toweling his hair down. He’d taken a shower; Jack noted that his arm was still attached, meaning it was waterproofed. That was fairly impressive for such a piece of technology.

Jack’s attention was more on the long line of Rhys’ chest. He was whipcord lean under his fancy clothes, skin smudged blue with the lines of his tattoos. Still, he was soft, looked soft. It was most obvious around his hips and stomach, the lack of definition there. _Apparently_ omegas tended to have an extra layer of fat for biological purposes or whatever. All Jack knew or cared about was that it made his fingers clench, thinking about all that skin, pale from being wrapped up prettily all day.

As he watched, Rhys stretched his arms high above his head, back bowing with the natural curve of his spine. Faintly, Jack could hear the tense noise he made as he held the position, and the pleased sigh as he relaxed, arms hanging loose at his sides.

Jack wondered if he could jerk off to this. It might be worth trying. His hopes rose as Rhys settled on his bed, eyes shut as he pushed himself up and across the mattress. He was very _long_ , legs for miles. Jack couldn’t decide if he wanted him there on the suite’s bed, a little too small, forcing them to cinch closer together to avoid falling off, or in his own bed, with enough room to spread Rhys out like a feast.

He was considering that, enjoying his whiskey and letting the heat kindle in him slowly, when Rhys climbed off the bed again. With a jolt, Jack realized he was looking _right_ at the camera.

His ECHOeye glowed a vivid orange as it came on. There was a smile on his lips. “I said _goodnight_ , Jack.”

And just like that, the feeds all winked out in unison. The hardware had been shut down. Jack sent a perfunctory command to the surveillance equipment only to find they all remained powered down, requesting manual boot.

Laughing, Jack finished off his whiskey, staring at the blank screens with a smile on his face. The kitten had claws.

 

* * *

 

Jack definitely jerked off later thinking about the blue ink on Rhys’ skin and how it’d compliment some hand-shaped bruises pressed into his hips and ass. With his hand gripping his cock, Jack couldn’t help but wonder if Rhys had intended this with his little trick.

Barely mattered. Jack still reaped the benefits. It was a good jerk-off.

The next day, Jack brought his guest to his own private gun range. “You ever fire a gun before, Atlas?” Jack asked as he unlocked the door with a biometric scan.

They hadn’t spoken about the previous night, but Jack could feel the tension simmering a little hotter between them. It helped that Rhys had left his bot behind this time, so it was just the two of them, and today had abandoned the waistcoat and open collar for something _much_ more casual. His black jeans looked much nicer than Jack’s, with glowing embroidery along his hips and on his back pockets, a little too flashy. The Atlas red sweater with the v neck, though, looked soft as butter, and Jack was desperate to touch.

It was a business deal, and Rhys dressed like he wanted to be seduced. Jack was all for that.

Rhys stepped into the firing range as soon as the door opened, leaving Jack to follow him. The view was great at least. “I live on Pandora,” he said, bemused.

“You also travel around with a huge loader bot retrofit to be a bodyguard.”

“I can fire a gun. I try not to, personally.” Looking around, he smiled. “Though I assume that’ll change here?”

Jack drew Rhys in to where a table of e-tech weaponry had been laid out. It was all pieces from Hyperion’s last range. Bit outdated, but solid. “There’s not much like holding one of these beauties in your hand. You got bandit problems, any _one_ of these will take care of it singlehandedly.”

Rhys’ chrome fingers trailed over the table. “They are very… shiny.”

He couldn’t help laughing at that. “Pot, kettle. Pick one, princess.”

The ECHOeye flashed to life again as Rhys took in the options. He was drawn to one of the two pistols, the Dart, almost instantly.

Rhys held the Dart in his hand, looking it over, touching the fins with a fingertip. As the pieces of the pistol shifted, the edges gleamed purple. “Slag augment, then?”

“Oh, it has more than that going for it.” Jack put a hand on Rhys’ back, drawing him to one of the booths in the shooting range. Within the booth was a pale blue particle field. Beyond it were the targets, glowing spheres hovering above digistructors.

“What’s this?” Rhys asked, pointing to some of the blue particles drifting lazily around them. His eyes lit up again, likely scanning.

“Dampening field. Lets you fire through it but kills the sound. I hate wearing the friggin’ ear protection for this. Now.” He stepped in behind Rhys, hands cupping his elbows.

“I know how to fire a gun, Jack,” Rhys said, smiling over his shoulder.

“All part of the demonstration, Rhysie. Relax.” It was reassuring that Rhys did; between Jack’s arms, he took a deep breath, eyes shutting for a moment. It was impossible to resist doing the same, inhaling that _unnaturally_ sweet scent to him. The urge to just _bite_ him was strong.

“These are the best of the line,” Jack said, voice dropping into a whisper, mouth just behind Rhys’ ear. “Should be smooth on the recoil. The shot will home in on the target, so don’t worrying about lining it up perfectly.”

Rhys simply nodded, his arms coming up, the Dart held securely in both hands. Jack could feel how his shoulder blades moved, the muscles in his back shifting against Jack’s chest. Letting go of his arms, Jack settled his hands on Rhys’ hips, watching as he lined up the shot, then deliberately pulled it to the right before firing.

The shot hit the wall, bounced off and embedded itself in the floating target. The projectile was a jagged chunk that dripped slag onto the floor like syrup. Three more shots fired off, each bouncing once or twice before finding their home in the target.

The next trigger pull, the gun did nothing, and Rhys frowned, looking at it. “Doesn’t hold many shots.”

“Doesn’t need to.” Jack reached out, taking the Dart from Rhys and returning it to the table.

“So the shape of the eridium pieces dictates the properties of the gun. Don’t suppose that comes with a cheat sheet?”

Jack smirked to himself. “You get the license, Atlas. The rest is up to you to figure out. I warned you, e-tech is it’s own field. You might not be up to the task.”

Turning, he found Rhys leaning against the wall of the booth, his fingers delicately touching his own collarbone. He was staring at Jack, _staring_ , so intently he was barely blinking. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the table, head ducking. “Don’t underestimate me, Hyperion.”

Oh, it was going to be like that, huh? Jack didn’t mind in the slightest. He stepped in, hands on the walls of the booth, blocking Rhys into the narrow space just to see how he leaned away, bending as Jack leaned over him. “Tired of this game yet?”

Rhys’ cheeks flushed as he backed up against the barrier, both hands gripping it behind him. “Let me see the SMG next.”

“Nah.” Following him back, Jack put his hands over Rhys’, pressing them down in place. “I don’t think so.” Leaning in, Jack nosed against Rhys’ jaw, near his hairline. Shifting closer, Jack felt Rhys part his legs to make room, and grinned at how transparent the omega was. Pressing against him, crowding Rhys back further, he could feel the sharp inhale Rhys took, heard the soft shaky exhale after.

“Not until business is done, Jack,” Rhys whispered, even as he turned his head for Jack to mouth at his neck, rubbing his face against warm skin. The subtle omega scent was stronger there and Jack took open mouth breaths, wanting more. Fuck, but Rhys smelled like he’d taste _amazing_ , would feel incredible around his knot.

Jack’s tongue flicked against the soft skin under Rhys’ jaw, nudging him back, urging him to make room. He did, sighing sweetly, his hips shifting against Jack’s.

Jack could get drunk off this, he was pretty sure.

He hadn’t been thinking straight since he laid eyes on Rhys that morning, dressed like _that_. So when Rhys got a hand free and fisted it in Jack’s coat and pushed, Jack went along. “Better--” he let out a choked moan. “Better down here.”

Rhys’ attempts at seeming in control and collected were _adorable_. Jack didn’t buy them for one second, but let himself be guided to his knees to jerk Rhys’ pants open. More than anything, he wanted to hear the omega scream his name. That hadn’t changed since the moment he’d laid eyes on him.

With that in mind, Jack hooked his fingers in Rhys’ jeans and underneath. The lack of pretty gold silk underwear was a disappointment, but quickly forgotten as Jack dragged everything down to Rhys’ knees. His fingers pressed into Rhys’ soft thighs, squeezing as he listened to Rhys’ heavy breathing above him.

“Relax, Atlas,” Jack said, anchoring his hands on Rhys and holding him still as his hips twitched restlessly. “Gonna take care of you.”

Take care of him until he was a crying mess ready to writhe on Jack’s dick. It would be beautiful.

Rhys’ cock was already half-hard, standing a little desperately, and jerking every time Jack breathed against it. Jack looked up from it, watching as Rhys shut his eyes, biting his lip. “Nuh uh.” Jack slapped Rhys’ hip, just hard enough to make him jump. His cock stiffened a little more, and Jack smirked. “Eyes on me, princess.”

Obediently, Rhys nodded, putting his hands gingerly on Jack’s shoulders as he leaned in closer, mouthed at the top of his sweet little cock, parting his lips to let it slide in over his tongue. Rhys moaned, and Jack could feel his muscles tense under Jack’s hands.

The dick in his mouth filled out, blood hot and hard, a nice mouthful to suck on as Rhys twitched and moaned, clearly struggling to keep his eyes open and on Jack. It was really damn gratifying, how all of the omega’s posturing just vanished. He looked much less like the CEO of Atlas now and more like someone worth debauching in a coat closet, quick and _easy._

Jack had known alphas who wouldn’t blow an omega, like it was beneath them. To him, that just showed a lack of finesse on their parts. Their loss.

He waited patiently until Rhys’ hand touched his hair. Humming, Jack slid his fingers back between Rhys’ legs, fingers instantly finding where he was hot and slick. Rhys made a sound like he was anxious, ashamed, his legs pressing together like he wanted to hide. Jack just swallowed around him and pushed his finger into his slick hole.

“J-Jack, Jaaack, oh fuck,” Rhys whimpered, his hips jerking, like he didn’t know what to press closer to, Jack’s mouth or his fingers. Now he sounded like an omega, desperate for a good fuck. Music to Jack’s ears.

Two fingers in and bobbing his head, Jack brought Rhys off, a thin cry tearing out of the omega as he came suddenly. Jack swallowed because it was neater and he hadn’t really thought ahead for this and planned an alternative.

Wiping his mouth, Jack stood, watching Rhys as he panted and leaned back against the barrier, eyes shut. One of his eyes opened, the brown one, and he smiled. “Satisfied?”

“Oh, kitten.” Jack boxed him in again, grinding slowly against Rhys. “Not even a _little_.” He caught Rhys at the knee, trying to lift him, urge him back.

That all stopped when Rhys put a hand on Jack’s chest, shaking his head. “No. Jack, you are not fucking me until our deal is done.”

“What?”

Rhys had some serious power in his metal arm, pushing Jack back with it easily. “You heard me.”

Oh, _what_. The omega was standing there with his pants down, face flushed red, and smelling like sex, and _no_? Jack’s mouth worked, furious and wordless for a moment as Rhys watched him wiht one lifted eyebrow. And that was a challenge in and of itself, he could see it, the judgement hiding right behind Rhys’ eyes.

Jack subsided, but looked down at himself, then back at Rhys. “Seriously?”

Shrugging, Rhys pulled up his pants, making a little grimace at having to get dressed while clearly slick. “I’m a big believer in anticipation and patience.” He slid out of the booth, stepping around Jack, letting their shoulders bump together. “It’s hardly my fault you’re not.”

This was not how Jack planned it. The plan was to have Rhys mewling and desperate for his knot and fuck him right there in the firing booth. Jack scowled, watching as Rhys smoothed down his clothes and skated his fingers through his hair, oblivious to the cruelty he was putting Jack through.

Rhys turned his head, just enough to see Jack. He smiled, guileless and sweet. “What’s next, Hyperion?”

Cursing internally, Jack shook himself, stalking out of the booth and beckoning Rhys to follow him. “Licensing agreement is in my office. C’mon.”

It wasn’t all terrible, though. As Rhys followed him, Jack could smell himself on him, covering the subtler omega scent, and there was something to be said for that. Rhys wore it well.

 

* * *

 

There are actual printed papers waiting on Jack’s desk, two copies, each sheaf tucked into a folder, red and yellow. Jack throws himself into his chair and pushes the red one to Rhys. “There, Atlas. Standard e-tech contract for competitive manufacture.”

Immediately, Rhys looked unimpressed. He propped his cheek on his fist as he flipped through the agreement, eyes hooded. “I see.”

Jack had a bad feeling about it all as Rhys leafed through, taking time to read each page. By the time he flipped it closed, Jack wasn’t at all surprised at the decisive, “No thanks,” that passed his lips. Lips that were still red from being bitten.

“What’s the problem? Not ready for the big leagues, Atlas? Price tag too rich for your blood?”

“I have better offers, that’s all,” Rhys said, waving his hand lazily.

“Better offers-- better from _who,_ no one else can license e-tech,” Jack growled.

“Hm, nooo, they can’t,” Rhys agreed. “But a standard e-tech license allows for an unlicensed party to use the technology if they enter into a distribution deal with someone who _does_ have a license.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “You would have to work with someone else to do that, though, it wouldn’t be an _Atlas_ e-tech line.”

“There are other people in the business who have a more collaborative spirit in their hearts, Jack,” Rhys said slowly, like he was explaining something complicated to Jack. “And really, the reduction in the pricetag just means more Atlas resources to go into the product line itself, meaning a better product--”

“Who’s the stupid son of a bitch you’ve convinced to play ball with you?” Jack asked. Either it was a bluff or it wasn’t.

Rhys just smiled.

Jack groaned, thumping his head back against his chair. “Torgue, you friggin’ idiot.”

“Not really. Torgue allows us the use of his license, he gets an Atlas-Torgue line of weapons that help expand his customer base outside the… explosively-inclined.”

“Fine. 10% off, going once,” Jack said, holding up a finger, ready to count.

“30%. You already know Atlas has limited eridium stores, we can’t mass produce like Hyperion, treating us like a direct competitor--”

“Oooooh my god,” Jack groaned, rubbing his face irritably. “Shut up. You want 25%. Not happening. Take 20% and be grateful.”

“21%,” Rhys answered with a grin.

“What, why? That’s stupid, the difference is negligible.”

“Because it’ll annoy you,” Rhys said, laughing. “Come on, Jack. 21%. Or I can call my finances department, get some hard numbers on Atlas resources against Hyperion resources, figure out _exactly_ how much of a discount we should get.”

“Any discount you get is a goddamn gift, you smug little--” Jack stopped, taking a breath. It would take hours to sort through those numbers, and his own people would insist on double and triple checking all of Atlas’ information to ensure it was accurate, and it would take all goddamn night.

Rhys plucked one of the pens from the desk, opened the folder. Flipping to one of the last pages, he crossed out the price offered and wrote a new number in its place after consulting his palm computer. Then, he spun the page around. “Initial the revised price.”

Jack did, frowning the whole time. But it got Rhys to stop screwing around and sign the agreement, the pen moving with quick flourish. _Rhys A. Sommerset_ , on behalf of the Atlas Corporation.

His eye lit up, then went out just as quickly. “Copy for my people’s records,” he explained, standing. “Well. I need to report back, let everyone know the license has been arranged.” He waved briskly, turning on his heel and walking down the steps, away from Jack’s desk. “Maybe,” he said, tossing a quick glance over his shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Jack.”

As if that was in question.

 

* * *

 

Jack took his time, because the last thing he wanted was Rhys to think he was _desperate_ or something. And he wasn’t. But he’d be damned if he didn’t finish what he and Rhys started. Not when Rhys was due back on Pandora in the morning, his shuttle out leaving too early for Jack’s tastes.

He was perfectly capable of being a gentleman though, and waited until after dinner before showing up at the guest suite with a bottle in hand.

For a moment, Jack dreaded having to talk his way around the bot. Luckily, Rhys opened the door, still dressed in his lush sweater. No jeans, through, just the edge of his boxers and his long, long legs. God, it was such a _play_ , and Jack didn’t even care. “Jack,” Rhys greeted warmly. “Hi.”

“Invite me in, babe,” Jack said. “We’re not done, you and me.”

Rhys blinked, surprised for a second, but stepped back, holding the door open. As he walked in, he handed the bottle off to Rhys, looking around. Standing near the windows was the loader bot, and Jack grimaced. “See he’s still around.”

“Oh, gin. _Good_ gin. I think I know something for this…” Rhys bumped the door shut with his hip before helping himself to the small bar. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’m good,” Jack said, thinking about the too-full whiskey he’d had after Rhys had left his office. He watched Rhys as he drew a glass out of the cabinet, setting it out. He picked through the bar with familiarity, humming softly as he set out ingredients and a shaker. The gin, a jar of honey, and lemon juice.

Jack’s eyes flicked to the robot again. “Does that robot of yours shut off?”

Rhys mixed his ingredients, closed the gold shaker and flicked it in his wrist. “He can. But he won’t.” Lifting his eyes, he met Jack’s gaze with a coy smile. “I like robots more than I like you.”

“Right, so does that mean you _like_ like robots?”

Rhys laughed, setting the shaker down to sugar the rim of his cocktail glass, movements methodical and fluid. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Did he? Hard to tell. There was something interesting about the idea of Rhys getting frisky with his robot, but it was hard to focus in on the idea. Instead, Jack knew what he really wanted, had wanted for far too long now to have not sealed the deal on it.

He let Rhys sip his drink, enjoying the pleased hum he let out at the taste. The drink was golden yellow, and it looked decent. Jack wanted a taste.

Circling the bar, Jack put a hand on Rhys’ hip, turning him so he could crowd him against the bar with his back to the robot. Without pants, it was easy to feel the heat of Rhys’ skin under his palm, through the thin fabric of his boxers. “Listen, Rhysie.”

Rhys took another sip of his drink, eyes on Jack over the frosted lip of his glass.

“This little game has been fun and you’ve shown off some good moves.” Jack offered, because he was capable of being the bigger man. He brushed the back of his fingers against Rhys’ face, thinking about before, the omega’s pretty blush. “But tomorrow, you’re headed back to that shithole of a planet.”

“I am, yeah. It’s been nice doing business.”

Jack’s hand turned, fingers against Rhys’ jaw. “You say that like we’re done, kitten.” Leaning in, he let his lips brush against Rhys’ as he spoke. “I don’t think we are. Aren’t you tired of playing hard to get?”

“Mm,” Rhys hummed, eyes closing. “Maybe a little.”

Jack kissed him, following the taste of the drink on this tongue, surging in to follow the flavor in Rhys’ mouth. It was like drunken honey, cloying with a burning bite to it, and he groaned.

The robot. Right. Jack pushed, urging Rhys along to the bedroom, winding sweet kisses against his mouth. He kicked the door shut behind him, making sure it was shut between him and the bot.

Rhys laughed against his mouth, drawing back and pecking Jack’s nose. “Message received, okay. Elbie’s really quiet though--” Jack growled, and Rhys laughed more. “Okay, okay.” He pushed Jack away, and for a second Jack worried this was another damn play-- “Take off your clothes, come on, my shuttle’s in seven hours.”

Jack bristled, doing his best to loom over Rhys. “You think you can boss me around, Atlas?”

“Oh my god, Hyperion.” Sighing, Rhys grabbed the bottom of his sweater and pulled it up and over his head in one smooth movement. It dropped to the floor and was quickly joined by his boxers as he kicked those off. “You’re keeping me waiting, come on.”

Discretion was the better form of… something. Point was, Jack wore a lot of layers, but had mastered the art of stripping after much practice and incentives just like this. He unbuttoned his waistcoat before leaning forward and letting all of it slide off him and to the floor. As he straightened, Rhys’ hands found his belt, unbuckling it and pulling Jack along with a hand clenched around each end of it.

“Impatient,” Jack accused, helping get the rest of his clothes off.

“Seven hours, Jack. Get on the bed, against the headboard?”

Ooh, he liked the sound of that instantly. Jack was never one to say no to a cowboy or cowgirl. It was something of a favorite position of his.

Climbing on, Jack got into position, stroking his cock with one hand. They’d already had their foreplay, both at the firing range and in Jack’s office. And without his clothes in the way, Jack could taste it in the air, how ready Rhys was for it. Even with all his screwing around, toying with Jack, he wanted Jack under it all.

He was a pushy thing, but even that was sort of working for Jack. Rhys followed him onto the bed, hands and knees until he was close enough to nuzzle against Jack’s chest and neck, breathing deeply. Drawing back, Jack could _see_ the way his pupils dilated. Well, pupil. The orange one remained the same.

Having had the omega’s dick in his mouth before made Jack a little bold, reaching back to tuck two fingers into Rhys, testing the stretch of his hole. Rhys huffed out a breath and shimmied closer, his knees bracketing Jack. “Come on, please.”

“Okay, Rhysie, all right,” Jack replied, leaning up to kiss the omega’s chin. His fingers were slick and he put them to use, wrapping around his cock and spreading it around in anticipation.

With the omega straddling his hips, it was impossible not to touch, to indulge in all that soft skin just begging for Jack’s hands. Rhys was surprisingly heavy against him, and his skin pressed against Jack’s as he settled his hands on Jack’s shoulders, holding on as he rocked back against Jack’s dick.

There was a sly look on his face as he let Jack slide against his ass, lips parted and curved so slightly upward. He was watching, waiting.

Oh, _fine_. Jack took hold of Rhys’ restless hips with one hand, his dick with the other, and guided himself into Rhys, gratified at how Rhys caved instantly at his compliance, helped sink down until Jack was sliding slick and deep.

Then for his trouble, he smacked the soft flesh of Rhys’ ass, making him yelp, hoping it would leave a mark.

Arching, Rhys leaned more fully against Jack, arms wrapping around Jack’s shoulders as he ground down against him. The muscles in his legs moved under Jack’s palms as he petted up and down Rhys’ legs, quietly thrilled to feel the effort it took to ride him so single-mindedly. Rhys moaned into Jack’s hair as his hips working up and down, clenching on every downstroke.

It was incredibly dirty and _good_ , Jack held down in place as the omega fucked himself on his cock relentlessly. Slick ran down between them, hot enough to distract from the way his cock squeezed into Rhys. Jack gripped Rhys’ ass, fingers finding the slick and following it back to his hole, fingertips nudging against his rim as he moved.

“Fuck, Jack,” Rhys breathed, panting against his temple. He shook his head, wordless, just moaning thinly.

Fine, not this time. Jack drew his hand away, instead smacking Rhys’ other cheek, hoping for a twin bruise there, rewarded with the suddenly sharp clench around his dick. From there, he spread out the hits against Rhys’ skin, waiting until Rhys was distracted before doing it again, desperate for that sweet startled reaction, so incongruous against the lead Rhys had taken.

Jack felt the overwhelming pressure at the base of his cock and groaned, the start of his knot coming faster. “God, princess, that’s so good, you ready?” he said between hard breaths.

That knocked a laugh out of Rhys, thready but real. “Oh, yeah. Just… Here, give me--” He leaned back to grab hold of Jack’s wrists, drawing them up and pinning them against the headboard. He smiled, kissed Jack softly as he kept moving.

There was surprising strength in Rhys’ hands. The metal arm was warm somehow, either from proximity or some internal heating elements. Either way, Jack was held fast as he cursed, started to come. He tried to rock his hips up, get his knot into Rhys, but Rhys wouldn’t let him, wouldn’t sit still. He watched Jack’s face as he rode him hard, eyes wide and rapt.

Jack tugged against Rhys’ grip, a cursory effort. In response, Rhys stilled for a moment, and Jack nearly bit him, furious. As soon as he subsided, though, Rhys picked up the pace again.

All right, he could live with that. He’d wanted to see Rhys stretched around his knot, but it was still _good_ like this, and Jack let himself be coaxed into coming, his knot filling out without any pressure around it. It was the slightest disappointment, but the rush of orgasm was still good, even as Rhys slipped off his dick, reaching down to curl his flesh hand around him to stroke him through it.

Jack wallowed in the hot rush, eyes shut for a moment as he basked in it. His hand reached down when Rhys let go, closed around his knot, pressure shiver sweet before it became oversensitive.

An obscenely wet sound drew Jack’s attention to Rhys. He was laying next to Jack, his fingers shoved into himself as his eyes fluttered shut, cheeks flushed red. He moaned, close, apparently ready to chase after his own orgasm.

To hell with that.

Jack turned Rhys over onto his belly, ignoring the shocked cry he let out as his fingers were jostled out of him. Shoving him down flat, Jack shouldered his legs apart, leaning close to breathe out against his slick hole.

Above him, Rhys cursed, the sound muffled in the bedsheets.

Grinning, Jack settled in, biting the flesh of Rhys’ ass before licking into him. He was already stretched open, was wet, and the brush of Jack’s tongue had Rhys pounding a fist against the bed with a choked sob.

He was already worked up, so it didn’t take long before Rhys came, the cry from his throat tense and almost painful sounding. His body tightened all over for a glorious moment as he came, his legs bending, toes curled in the air and shaking before orgasm released him and he slumped down on the mattress. When Jack continued to touch his hole gently, he whined, tried to feebly kick back at Jack. Delighted, Jack laughed, sitting up and rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth.

“You know,” Jack said, voice a little quiet and rough as his body hummed happily, “I’m not sure I buy your whole anticipation and patience thing, but that was pretty good.”

Below him, Rhys gave Jack a weak thumbs up before dropping his arm back against the bed, bonelessly. Orgasm tended to hit omegas harder, so that wasn’t too surprising. It was sort of rewarding to see, actually.

Jack let himself fall back against the bed, digging in his heels to push himself up to the pillows, dragging one down under his head. He wasn’t settled for five seconds before Rhys was rolling over, fitting his body against Jack’s side. It was almost cute, how he rubbed his cheek against Jack’s chest, sighing quietly.

Jack obligingly curled his arm around Rhys’ back. “Look at you,” he murmured. “I think I like you better with an orgasm in you, Rhysie.”

Rhys hummed, the vibration tangible against Jack’s skin with how close Rhys pressed in. “Mm. That’s a relief. I like you better when you’re giving me one.”

He didn’t bother to suppress the warm chuckle at that, laying his head back and closing his eyes. “I could stand to do it again, you know.”

“No time.” Rhys huffed softly. “God, I don’t even want to know how until my shuttle.”

“No, I mean, next time.” He dragged his hand up and down Rhys’ side, resting his palm against Rhys’ ribs. “You can come visit.”

“And let you parade me around Helios again?”

“And orgasms,” Jack reminded him. “Don’t forget the orgasms, those are important.”

He could feel the quiet laughter from Rhys, warm and sweet against his chest. Rhys nuzzled in a little more, shifting to hook his leg around Jack’s with a pleased sound. “I’ll think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I survived Black Friday in retail. It was a harrowing few days there.
> 
> OKAY SO A LOT OF SHIT HAS BEEN POSTED SINCE LAST CHAPTER LIKE WOW. People are making fanart for this and it's incredible, holy shit.
> 
> Lego, who I am not gonna lie was part of the inspiration for this AU, drew Queen Bee Rhys and Jack with some absolutely gorgeous colors. [It is currently my tablet wallpaper, I love it so.](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/133942431290/lelelego-you-couldnt-afford-me-hyperion)
> 
> kingarthursart drew [Rhys in the most _perfect_ outfit](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/133996125725/kingarthursart-just-a-warm-up-sketch-of), complete with _tails_. And when I enthused about the tails, they did [these](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/134000987535/kingarthursart-and-the-long-tails-i-daydream) [follow-ups](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/134003255945/kingarthursart-omegas-in-the-business-world-that). Amazing.
> 
> [alizardinlaw drew Rhys as well](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/134081848110/alizardinlaw-there-can-never-be-too-many), WITH MORE TAILS, because I... am weak to that shit and so is everyone else apparently.
> 
> And just today, [this jawdropping art](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/134201718410/redstele-the-new-face-of-atlas-homage-to-my) crossed my dash from redstele. This is just fucking classy. I love the subtle texturing of the vest and how it looks like some official corporate portrait, god.
> 
>  _Thank you_ , everyone, jesus christ, I'm flattered and honored and thrilled.


	5. coffee, black

Shuttle rides were still terrible. When Jack had invited Rhys up to Helios again, he’d let the invite sit for a week before responding that he’d love to. And he would; Rhys was looking forward to some time with Jack and away from work. But, _god_ , the shuttle flight made him regret saying yes to the trip.

It didn’t help that Elbie was _staring_ at him. Or, Elbie was always staring, since the aperture of his optics didn’t fully close, so he couldn’t exactly _blink_ , but the point was Elbie had been focused on Rhys for more than five minutes.

Gritting his teeth and telling himself he was _imagining_ turbulence because they were in space for god’s sake, Rhys asked, “What’ve I done now, Elbie?”

“This trip seems ill-timed. We should be working with Gortys,” Elbie intoned. Even given his limited vocal range, his disappointment was obvious.

“Gortys is fine. She’s probably in R&D right now charming the pants off everyone. Let her have fun while our people locate her final upgrade. Besides,” Rhys shrugged, leaning his head back against his seat. “The Hyperion thing is worth pursuing.”

“I am confused. Do you refer to our rival corporation or to Handsome Jack?”

With a smirk, Rhys said, “They’re pretty much the same thing. Trust me, I know that I’m doing. Mostly.”

“That is what you said about Flanksteak.”

“Elbie,” Rhys said, warning in his voice. He couldn’t keep from bristling at the name, the reminder. The urge to reach up and protectively cover his neck was an old one, but persistent. He ignored it.

He heard it as Elbie shifted, the same anxious posturing you’d expect from a human. But Elbie had always been good at that sort of artifice, little ways to communicate more effectively. “That was unfair.”

“Yeah,” Rhys agreed, shutting his eyes. “What’s our ETA?”

“Soon,” Elbie replied. Which was nice. If Rhys had a concrete number, he’d just end up counting down the minutes. Better this way.

Instead, Rhys settled in, breathing steadily, getting ready.

 

* * *

 

This time, Jack wasn’t there to greet them. Maybe he finally realized that made him seem a little desperate. He didn’t show his face until after Rhys settled into his guest room.

“No cameras this time?” Rhys asked in lieu of a hello as Jack let himself into the room.

That was clearly not how Jack intended to start the discussion, and he was quiet for a second before grinning. “Or you haven’t found ‘em yet.”

Yeah, right. If Jack wanted to think of Rhys as some kind of amateur, that was his own business. He raked a hand through his hair, leaning back and eyeing Jack. He was dressed down somewhat. Or, _down_ might not have been the right choice of words. He was out of his _uniform_ , as it was, in a navy buttondown with the top buttons left rakishly undone, tucked into dark pants that clung in a lot of flattering places.

 _Speaking of business with Hyperion_ , Rhys thought vividly, letting his eyes drag over Jack before meeting his eyes again. “You wanted to see me,” Rhys reminded Jack.

Jack stepped closer, movements just shy of being a swagger. “Hate to see you wither away on that crapsack planet.”

“Hardly withering,” Rhys said quietly.

“Sure, you’ve built a nice little greenhouse in the desolation. Doesn’t mean you belong there,” Jack replied with a shrug.

That was a little more insight than Rhys expected from Jack, really. Still ultimately incorrect, but close enough to home that it made Rhys a little uncomfortable. “What do you want, Jack? If you brought me three thousand miles from home just to remind everyone that Pandora’s a dangerous place, then I’ll be upset.”

Jack grinned, his eyes flicked to Elbie. “Can we leave the robot behind, Atlas? Or do you need a chaperone?”

Tucking his hands into his pockets, Rhys turned at the hips, looking over at Elbie, who looked back. He was already disapproving of Rhys’ decisions. Rhys could tell; robots might’ve lacked descriptive features like eyebrows and, well, faces, but when you spent enough time around them, they were just as easy to read as people.

“What did you have in mind?” Rhys asked Jack.

 

* * *

 

What Jack had in mind was taking Rhys back to his own penthouse suite, making it through half a cocktail, and dragging Rhys into a bruising kiss.

He was so _impatient_ , it made Rhys want to laugh. He was used to this game, how his endotype could be used to his benefit, but no one had even fallen for it as hard as Jack had. His kisses were hungry, almost _starved._ It made it so easy to lead him with little sipping kisses, every peck against his cheeks making Jack growl angrily, trying to drag Rhys in for more.

It shouldn’t have been so easy. It made Rhys a little lazy, made him actually enjoy things a little more. He stopped paying attention to the business side of this, instead getting caught up in how nice it was to just have fun. Jack didn’t need as much of a performance, after all. Just the luxury of getting to fuck Rhys seemed to be enough.

Rhys let himself purr happily as Jack lifted him up, hands secure around his ass, carrying him to the bedroom. “Eager,” he accused lightly.

“What, like you aren’t?” Which was weak as far as retorts went, but was true enough.

Jack was intense in bed. Well, he was intense everywhere, radiated it like no one else Rhys had ever met, like a cologne of impending violence and white-knuckle determination. It was heady and-- and _fun_ to get caught up in.

Relaxing, Rhys held onto Jack’s broad shoulders as he was fucked steadily into the bed. His legs fit around Jack’s hips nicely; he could get used to the dense weight of Jack over him.

He didn’t let Jack knot him that time, though silently he kind of wanted to. It’d been a very long time since he’d let _anyone_ do that. In the warm afterglow, Rhys shifted his hips lazily against the bed, thinking about it, the pressure, the feeling of being caught, the closeness. He sighed at the thought.

With his eyes shut, he could only feel it as Jack touched him. He’d expected Jack to quiet down now, but instead he knelt over Rhys, straddling his hips. “Mm?” Rhys managed sleepily.

“You just lie there and look pretty,” Jack said, voice a low rumble. His palms were huge and warm as they cupped Rhys’ neck, fingers seeming to measure the circumference of it before sweeping down, fingers pressing into the soft skin of his chest. He could tell by touch how Jack was tracing the blue lines of his tattoos and hummed, stretching out a little under the attention.

“Yeah, just like that,” Jack continued, and Rhys laughed at the compliment.

“I try,” he whispered, containing his shiver as Jack pressed his thumb against a nipple, rubbing a slow circle that made Rhys sigh happily.

The quiet moment was nice and more arousing than Rhys would have expected. At first, keeping still was a nice luxury, just lying there being pet by warm hands. When Jack’s fingers pressed into the softness of his stomach, a little whine escaped his mouth and he shifted, shoulders pressing back into the bed.

His arm beeped quietly, a message waiting for him. Rhys frowned, and Jack sighed loudly. “What, Atlas can’t survive ten minutes without you?” His hands splayed out wide, pushing back up Rhys’ chest. God, it was practically a massage.

Rhys was _fairly_ certain that Jack was trying to butter him up for round two, to coax Rhys into a knot. Worse, it was working.

“They can wait a bit,” Rhys said, powering down his palm computer and opening his eyes to look up at Jack. “Or, I can be convinced to make them wait.”

Smiling, Jack moved, spreading out over Rhys’ body, covering him almost completely. The kiss this time was still hungry, but sweeter, and Rhys leaned up for more. “I can be persuasive,” Jack mumbled against his lips, moving closer, drawing one of Rhys’ legs up around his hips.

“Prove it,” Rhys replied, nipping Jack’s lips.

He got a wild smirk in response before Jack seized his hips and rocked his dick in, slow and luxurious. Rhys kept his arms lax, spread out for Jack and easy for it. His fingers curled around the sheets with every long, steady thrust in. It was measured and toe-curlingly good.

Jack did all the work without complaint while Rhys soaked up the feeling. It was gradual and good, the sticky hot feeling in his gut spreading up his spine and out his mouth as a moan.

“That’s it, baby,” Jack managed through a tight voice. “Fuck, you smell so good, let me…”

He trailed off, but Rhys knew, could feel the swelling at the base of Jack’s cock and how it slipped in and out of him, just starting to catch. He exhaled hard and nodded. Just this once. He wouldn’t let it be a habit, but it seemed a shame to fly all the way to Helios on what was essentially a booty call and then not get a good knot.

The dirty grind they fell into was great; Rhys let go of the sheets in favor of Jack’s shoulders, wrapping around him. His hips rocked up, dick rubbing against Jack while Jack swelled up in him, groaning. The knot’s pressure was intense and brilliant, making Rhys shout, eyes pinching shut. He came from the knot alone, the feeling of fullness, the heat of it. When Jack tugged back and was unable to slide back out, Rhys clawed at him, like he could drag him in further, desperate for more.

Jack mouthed against his chin, indistinct growls from his throat as he ground his hips. He came thick and heavy, the sensation making Rhys’ eyes flutter, half-forgotten but instantly remembered. Being filled up was a singular sensation, so rich and good it made Rhys feel drunk.

That, Rhys thought, was _satisfying._ It was worth it, he decided, as Jack laid over him, heavy and hot as a furnace. He wished it wasn’t something of a risk. It’d been a very long time since he’d let anyone knot him. He wished he could get used to the feeling.

But it was too soon for that. He should have known better than to drop his guard, to look at Jack like he was a known variable.

Point of fact: after Jack slipped his knot out, Rhys rested there, laying across Jack’s ridiculous, huge bed with his eyes shut. For a while, Jack stayed with him, but eventually climbed up and left the room. Soon, Rhys distantly heard Jack clattering around the kitchen.

It was nice to know that Jack was the type that needed some fuel after a long fuck; it was useful information.

Before Rhys could linger on that thought and its implications too long, he rolled onto his back, reactivating his palm computer to check in with things.

As soon as it came out of its hibernation, about ten urgent messages flashed at him.

“Shit,” Rhys mumbled, sitting up, the sheets bunching around his hips as he flicked through the messages.

Five minutes later, Rhys pushed through the door back to the living area. Jack was in the kitchen, humming to himself, the arrogant asshole. “That,” Rhys said slowly, voice dripping with disdain, “was a dirty trick.”

Without even looking up, Jack chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, probably. You enjoyed it at the time, though, didn’t you, kitten?”

“Before I read that you stole one of our eridium mines--”

Jack shook a finger at Rhys, actually _shook a finger_ , so casually condescending that Rhys wanted to punch him. “That mine was originally a DAHL mine, Atlas. Ergo, according to the terms of our ceasefire with them, it _technically_ belongs to Hyperion. I was just collecting what’s mine.” He looked up, lips still curved. “You’re lucky I don’t charge you for every piece of eridium you extracted from it.”

Rhys stalked in closer. “You're lucky I don’t introduce my fist to your--”

“Easy, Rhysie.” He circled around the kitchen island, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his naked chest. “None of your people were injured, I made sure of that. Even had a few GUN loaders escort them safely back to your closest base. This _could_ have been a bloody affair. Keep that in mind.”

God, he was such an asshole. Rhys kept his mouth shut as he gathered his clothes and redressed. “Rhys, come on,” Jack called after him, but made no move to stop him as he left and headed back to his room.

 

* * *

 

“If you say anything remotely approaching _I told you so_ ,” Rhys said acidly to Elbie as he retired to his guest bedroom, “then I’m sending you to the corrosive test range.”

“The Board has sent two requests to speak to you, Mr. Sommerset,” Elbie replied.

Rhys was only ever _Mr. Sommerset_ when Elbie was trying to be gentle with him. Jesus, part of him wished Elbie would be a dick instead. It’d make everything easier.

“I’m indisposed,” Rhys replied, kicking off his shoes and falling onto his bed. “I’ll deal with them in a few hours. I need to think.”

“Setting alarm for 2000 hours,” Elbie intoned gravely, and left the room, leaving Rhys to his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

The video call with the Board went about as well as Rhys expected. It was easy to throw Hyperion under the bus for the aggression; with their reputation-- with Handsome Jack’s reputation-- it was an easy sell. And everyone believed him when he said he’d make Hyperion bleed for it.

Handling the Board wasn’t difficult. But the lingering unrest in Rhys didn’t go away so easily.

There was still that crystal statue of Helios sitting on the bar. Rhys sat on the stool next to it, tipped it precariously with two fingers, humming to himself.

He didn’t drop it, though. Not just yet.

Elbie watched him. “Are you planning our retaliation?"

That was a very good question. Rhys tipped his head to the side, thinking long and hard about it before righting the statue, letting it go. “No. No, I’ll let this one slide.” He picked his drink, sipping it. “We’ll avoid Jack for a few months, let him stew. Let him think we’re weak. When Gortys is ready and we have a Vault of our own, one little eridium mine will be chump change.”

“It’s not like you to tolerate something like this.”

“It’s an investment. Trust me, Elbie.”

“I do,” Elbie said. “And only 58 percent of that is due to my programming dictating I must. But I am unclear on what you hope to gain from this.”

“That makes two of us,” Rhys muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “No, you’re right. I need to… nail this down.” He checked the time on his ECHOeye HUD. It was late, well past working hours. “I’m going to head out. Time to do a little research.” He hopped off his stool, tugging his shirt down and straight. “If someone comes looking for me, pretend I’m here, just not up for talking.”

“You want me to lie,” Elbie said.

“By omission. You can lie by omission, I know I programmed that logic for you,” Rhys reassured him as he pulled his shoes back on. “I’m indisposed, I’m unable to take guests at the time, stuff like that.”

“Where are you going?”

“Getting a bead on Jack is only half the equation, Elbie. We need to know how the people of Helios feel about their esteemed leader and corporate parent before we advance the plan forward.”

“What _plan_?”

Rhys just smiled and waved over his shoulder as he left, because he didn’t have an answer for that yet. But he was working on it, really. Especially now.

If Jack had accomplished anything, it was that.

 

* * *

 

The luxury apartments that housed his guest quarters overlooked one of the commercial districts of Helios, the Hub of Heroism

And it hadn’t stopped being strange and a little impressive, that Helios had _districts_ , that is was so expansive. Really, that was the most intimidating thing about Hyperion, the sheer size of it. Rhys was not humble; he knew the scale of his talents and what he was capable of. But Hyperion was a goliath.

Somehow, he had to make that work in his favor. To figure _that_ out, he needed a better sense of the atmosphere.

Traveling to R&D with Jack had been illuminating, to see firsthand the effect his brutality had on people. But most of Helios probably never met the man himself, so Rhys went out looking for _those_ people. They’d be the harder sell.

To that end, Rhys wandered around the shopping center, looking for the kind of person he needed. Someone alone, separate from the rest, someone who needed company. Also, a beta. An alpha or omega would be able to smell Jack on him, and he didn't need that complication now.

He found them in the chic little diner overlooking one of the green parks. They were sitting in a booth by themselves, their only company a cup of coffee and the view of the trees.

Rhys reached up, ruffling his hair out of it’s usual sleek set into something softer, friendlier, before walking over and tapping one of his golden fingers against the tabletop. “Do you mind if I join you?”

The beta sitting at the table looked up slowly, following the trail of Rhys’ arm from fingertip all the way up to his face, a blush stealing over his cheeks. He looked around at the rest of the diner, taking in all the other open tables, then translating that into what Rhys was asking. Smiling, Rhys resisted the urge to reassure him, _yes, you_.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure, f-feel free!” He wrapped his hands around his mug, twitching nervously as Rhys settled into the booth across from him. This close, Rhys could smell the drink and resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the scent; coffee, black. Bracing, but bitter to his palette.

Not wanting to completely shut down his new friend’s brain, Rhys looked out the window, diverting his attention. It was effective; from here, he could watch the beta’s face in the glass’ reflection and see how he swallowed a shaking breath. “The view from here is great.”

“Yeah, it’s… it’s nice. I’m…” Whatever introduction he was about to offer trailed off anxiously. It was hard to see his eyes through his ECHO glasses, and Rhys turned his head just enough to take him in.

“I’m Rhys.”

“I know. I mean, Vaughn. I’m Vaughn.”

That drew Rhys to really look at the beta, at Vaughn. “You know?”

Vaughn’s eyes flicked between his coffee and Rhys’ face. “Hey, I watch the news. And your… the arm stands out.”

“Ah, haha, I guess it’s a little flashy.” He smiled, ducking his head. “I hoped to have a nice incognito chat but… whoops.”

His smile mirrored on Vaughn’s face, a little more wanly, cautiously. “Sorry. Do you… I can pretend I don’t know you if you like? W-would that be better?”

Biting his lip, Rhys looked up at Vaughn. “No, it’s fine. I mean, whatever you want. I just… noticed you were sitting alone, thought some company might be nice?”

“I certainly don’t mind.” Some of the nervousness seemed to fade from his form as he picked up his mug and took a sip of coffee. “Are you… enjoying Helios, Rhys?”

“Probably a bit more now that I’m out of Handsome Jack’s clutches for a while,” Rhys joked lightly. “These kind of trips are necessary for business, but they’re a little exhausting.”

“I can imagine. Or, I mean.” His eyes darted around, like he was waiting for Jack to leap at him from the corners of the room, like just the utterance of his name might summon him. “I’ve-- I’ve never met him, personally, but…”

“Try to keep it that way,” Rhys said, lowering his voice to a stage whisper.

“I will. Is… are you liking Helios otherwise? You’re from Pandora, right?”

“Nominally, yeah. Pandora’s home, but Helios is beautiful, honestly. Even worth dealing with Jack.” Rhys snorted. “Usually. I mean, is he always…?” Tsking, he stopped. “No, don’t answer that. You work for Hyperion, I understand.”

“Everyone’s afraid of him,” Vaughn said almost eagerly. “It’s like the threat every department head uses to keep us in line, the whole,” he lifted his hands, waggling his fingers, “Oh, if you don’t shape up, I might have to inform Handsome Jack.” Grimacing, he shook his head. “Worst thing is enough people have disappeared after bad reviews, it kind of works.”

“That’s terrible,” Rhys said in complete earnestness. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah… so you don’t…” Vaughn leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. “You…. you _run_ Atlas, you don’t do it like… that?”

“ _God_ , no. I mean, obviously I think I do a better job and that’s all… subjective and stuff, but I don’t _scare_ people into work. I don’t know how Jack makes that sustainable, really.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “But what do I know, Hyperion is enormous compared to Atlas.”

“Still. I bet it’s nice, working under you. With you. _For_ you, I mean,” Vaughn said, turning red around the ears as he fumbled his words.

He was pretty cute. Rhys smiled at him. “What department are you in?”

“Oh, uh, finances. Surprised you couldn’t tell. Beta and wearing these babies,” he tapped his glasses, “tends to telegraph that pretty well.”

“I try not to make assumptions based on endotypes,” Rhys murmured, winking at Vaughn.

“Right, that… yeah, you wouldn’t. Though… maybe that’s why you run things differently?”

“Hm, maybe."

It took a moment for Vaughn to work up the courage to keep going. Rhys glanced out the window again as he waited; it was best to let Vaughn come to him, so to speak. "So what are you doing out in the Hub?”

Rhys let out a soft sigh. “Trying to get a feel for the place. I mean, Jack was happy to show me around, like, R&D and stuff, but the rest of it?” He shrugged. “I love my Atlas facility, but it’s a fraction of the size of Helios, and I’ve been on Pandora for years now. Getting a taste of civilization is a luxury for me.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t show you more. It’s... I think it’s nice up here.” Vaughn was blushing again, and Rhys watched with anticipation as he swallowed the rest of his coffee, shifting in his seat. Perfect. Eager to help and adorable, the best combination. “Where, uh, where’d you want to go? I’m off work for the night, I… I mean, if you were looking for a tour of the unclassified areas, I…”

He was going to talk himself into loops, Rhys could just tell, and cut in to help him. “God, I dunno. The Hub seems pretty neat, maybe a look at the offices if they’re nice? The residential areas, see what kind of housing Hyperion offers its people.”

“Th-the resid--” Vaughn coughed, the red from his ears spreading to his cheeks. “Well, I could do that if you wanted, Mr. Sommerset.”

“Oh, don’t start mistering me now,” Rhys said, laughing. “Rhys, please.”

“Okay. Rhys.” Vaughn swallowed. “Want to…” He pointed to the door.

“I would _love_ to. Lead the way.”

After all, it was research, Rhys thought as he followed his new friend out of the diner. And Vaughn _was_ cute. He just might want to keep him.


	6. moonshine

Taking the eridium mine back from Atlas had been more of a play than anything. The way Jack saw it, Atlas was settling on _his_ planet, the planet he’d won (mostly) fair and square when he’d kicked DAHL to the curb. Atlas getting cozy was fine, so long as they knew who their landlord was.

Rhys took it badly, running back to Pandora and ignoring Jack’s future attempts at communication.

So he lost a shot at a pretty omega. It was disappointing, but Jack would live. There were a surplus of gorgeous people in the universe and there was no better aphrodisiac than money.

Then, a few months later, Atlas acquired a fucking _Vault_. The Vault of the Traveler, the new shining jewel of Atlas apart from Rhys himself. Flush with eridium and new artifacts, Atlas’ stock catapulted up past Maliwan to nip at Jakobs’ heels.

Over brunch, Moxxi held her mimosa like she was about to pull a bar move, breaking the glass and attacking Jack. “You were supposed to be fixing this,” she told him viciously.

“I’m working on it,” Jack groused back at her.

He hated when Moxxi was right but this time she truly had been. So, instead of flying back to Helios, Jack directed his pilot to steer the shuttle to Pandora.

The New Atlas headquarters was built from the remnants of Old Haven, a place Jack thought had been pretty thoroughly destroyed. It was in a curious part of the main continent, situated between the the arid badlands with its wide deserts and shifting sands, and the greener, lush highlands. It was nestled right at the base of a mountain range, enough natural cover that Jack’s shuttle was forced to circle around to the unmistakeable ‘front’ of town, landing just outside the gates.

Since Jack had last seen it, the place had gotten a makeover. Either the old buildings with their peeling paint and crumbling walls had been renovated or the entire city had been rebuilt. Probably the latter; now, the town was almost conspicuously nice for a Pandoran settlement, red brick houses with stately orange awnings hanging over much of the streets, blocking the harsh glare of the sun. Further back, closer to the curve of the mountain range, the homey feel of Old Haven turned into a massive complex that Jack _definitely_ didn’t remember from the last time he’d been around these parts. It loomed over the town, blocky and blue and incongruous to the rest of the town.

Stepping out onto Pandora after so long was nostalgic. There was something about the _air_ , a sun baked heat, a smell of greenery that just didn’t exist on Helios. Jack opened his mouth, taking deep breaths of it before squaring his shoulders and walking into Old Haven.

He made it to the main gates before being stopped by two nervous looking Atlas guardsmen. Each were holding rifles that glimmered eridium purple. Atlas’ first attempts at e-tech. “You here to roll out the welcome mat, sweetcheeks?” he asked one of the guards.

Before either could reply, a familiar heavy tread met Jack’s ears. That bodyguard bot stepped in, its eye steady on Jack’s face. “Mr. President,” it said as it stood behind the guards. “This is an unscheduled visit.”

“Yeah, I know. Heard about Atlas’ shiny new Vault, wanted to congratulate Rhysie. Why don’t you go fetch him?” Jack said.

The guards shared a glance, looking nervous. “Should we…?” One started, almost a whisper.

“Not without cause. Rhys’ll be mad,” the other said.

Before Jack had time to think about that weird familiarity, the bot cut in, “Mr. Sommerset has a very full schedule. While we appreciate you making the long journey here, it would be better for you to leave and contact us for an appointment.”

Jack put his hands on his hips. “Do I look like the kind of guy who makes appointments, loader bot?”

“Elbie, please,” Rhys said, stepping seemingly out of the goddamn shadows, his smile already set in place, the buttons on his waistcoat glowing in the shade. “The timing is a little inconvenient, but Jack’s more than welcome to visit.”

The bot turned at its hips axis, looking at Rhys. “You changed fast.”

“Shush,” Rhys replied, warmth in his smile. As he joined them, he put a hand on each of his guard’s shoulders. “Harris, Val, it’s fine. I’ll take it from here. You can return to the rounds.”

“If you’re certain,” one of them said. Even through the helmet, Jack could tell she was glancing back at Jack. He narrowed his eyes at her until she left.

Rhys waited until they were out of earshot before crossing his arms, looking Jack up and down. “You are a long way from home, Hyperion.”

“Come on, cupcake. You gonna invite me in or what?”

“Hmm.” Rhys tapped his fingers against his arm. “I suppose I owe you a walk-through, since you were kind enough to show me around Helios.”

Seemed more than fair. Jack would be a liar if he didn’t admit to being curious, especially now that Atlas had a Vault. Their operation seemed so much smaller. “Sounds good. But then, we need to talk.”

“Follow me.”

 

* * *

 

The most obvious thing about the New Haven facility was that it was smaller than Helios. It was urban, its own little city that radiated out from the facility itself. It would feel at home on any central planet instead of on Pandora. Rhys lead the way inside, into a huge atrium awash with warm orange light, where a statue of Atlas stood overhead, leaning towards them with the globe on his back.

Marble floors and red-black detailing made for a fairly severe-looking decor, like the Atlas weapons of old. It was contrasted against the dress code, or the lack thereof.

That was the next most obvious thing about the facility; the people.

“Oh, Rhys,” another pretty omega with her hair tied back in a ribbon called, ignoring Jack’s presence to approach Rhys. She was in some kind of loose tunic with leggings. There was the same orange gleaming detailing around the sleeves and buttons that Rhys had, but otherwise it was basically civvies.

“Tam, hey,” Rhys said. He tossed a quick, “One sec, Jack,” over his shoulder before the woman fit herself against Rhys’ side, holding a glass tablet at an angle for him to see. Rhys’ hand settled on her far shoulder as he leaned in to read.

“The two-tier design is going to demand more foundation, it’ll put us behind schedule, _but_ it’ll double the workspace and make better use of it,” Tam said.

“Yeah, but we’re already running low on lab space. I don’t wanna delay the expansion.”

She tapped the back of her hand against his chest and pointed to the tablet again. “Which is why I think we should go with this, split the space in two, get the eastern half laid as soon as possible, but go for the two-tier plan for the western half.”

“Okay, but pull personnel off the west bit, put them on the eastern until it’s done.”

She nodded, smiling. “Can do. Thank you, Rhys.”

“Of course.” His fingers squeezed her shoulder for just a second before he let her go. Turning back, he aimed the same smile at Jack. “Sorry about that.”

Jack frowned. “Who was that?”

“Hm? Tam, she heads structural engineering. We’re expanding the complex. Come on.” He waved Jack along with him, like one of his underlings hadn’t just cozied up to his side like they were courting.

That wasn’t the end of it though. Not even a little bit.

Jack normally had insightful, hilarious commentary for every occasion. He prided himself on his own amazing wit. But for once, Jack kept most of his remarks to himself.

It was hard to put the feeling of weird _wrongness_ he got from the Atlas facility into words.

Because sure, maybe it was an omega thing. Omegas liked that, the whole contact and cuddling thing. They were predisposed towards it, and groups of omegas had friggin’ bonding rituals and crap, though Jack had never looked into the details. So after Tam and two other omegas ran into Rhys and basically scented him, he chalked it up to Atlas being run by an omega. Obviously it’d be different than a normal corporation.

Nuh uh.

“You might like this,” Rhys said as they walked through an archway into a great room filled with machinery and lab benches. “Incendiary e-tech’s going _really_ well."

“That so,” Jack murmured, following as Rhys flagged down one of his engineers.

“Manuel, hi, I need you for a moment,” Rhys said, smiling at the broad alpha in the lab coat.

“For you, always,” Manuel said, smiling up at Rhys, the skin around his dark eyes crinkling before he noticed Jack’s presence and stepped back very suddenly. _Huh_. “Oh, I didn’t realize we had guests.”

Rhys nodded, his smile unwaning. It didn’t even look _fake_ , like when Jack had to show board members around Helios, the gleam in his brown eye too real to be artificial. “We have Jack to thank for our e-tech license, so I thought a tease of some of our applications might be fun.”

Jack lifted a hand, waved once, then crossed his arms again, eyes narrow on the engineer.

Manuel shifted, glancing at Rhys, who silently put a hand on his wrist, squeezing, like he’d done with Tam before. “Certainly, sir. Should I get the flamethrower or…”

“Hyperion makes flamethrowers. Show Jack something new, maybe the grenade mod.”

So Jack watched with one eye as Atlas’ new grenade was demo’ed. It was interesting, a catalyst mod that once thrown burst into seven self-propelled fireballs, homing in on heat signatures. Useless against low heat signatures, but sure to tear a crowd of people apart.

It was hard not to watch the way Rhys bent in close, whispering to his engineer, who in turn had his face so close to Rhys, to Rhys’ neck, it was… weird. And the technician on the other side of them just watched with a smile.

 _What the hell_ , Jack thought to himself as he was lead back out of the lab, listening to Rhys chatter on excitedly about how the e-tech was going and how _generous_ the license deal had been.

Turning to take in the walls, Jack noticed that Atlas had the same brand of propaganda that Hyperion did. Every once in a while, they walked past a tall image, bold red, orange, and black depicting the vague stylized image of Rhys with a planet held in his golden hand. _ATLAS: Together, From The Ashes._ Another, with Rhys’ arm around a non-descript human shape’s shoulders. _ATLAS: Join The Family Today_.

“Want one to take home?” Rhys asked with mirth as he caught Jack looking at yet another one. _ATLAS: At Your Side, At Your Back._

“Nah. Should talk to your propaganda people though,” Jack replied, tucking his hands into his pockets. “All this hippy togetherness shit, people are going to think you’re Maliwan.”

“This is internal branding, not for consumers,” Rhys said coolly. “Atlas’ people need to hear different things than our clients do.”

“They look like pin-ups,” Jack pointed out, since a few _did_ , the way the artist highlighted Rhys’ trim hips and cheekbones impossible to ignore when it was plastered ten feet tall on the wall.

Rhys laughed, ducking his head bashfully. “Maybe a bit. Come on. You wanted to talk, my office is top floor. Wait’ll you see the skywalk, there’s a great view.”

He wasn’t wrong. The facility was _quaint_ compared to Helios, but it was well kept, well designed. The elevator brought them up to an enclosed bridge, high above the city. The walls were tinted glass, blocking out the worst of the sunlight but allowing a clear view in almost all directions. From there, Jack could see his shuttle being carted to the tiny spaceport. Beyond that, a small team of Atlas gunmen out was in the grassland, scaring away a pack of skags. Beyond even that, dark clouds, maybe a storm front rolling in.

“I sometimes take meetings from here,” Rhys said quietly. “Lets me keep an eye on things. And you can see for miles.”

“Yeah, it’s a shining gem, sure,” Jack said. “What’s with all the touchy feely crap, Atlas? Is that how things are run here? You’re going to make them all soft.”

Rhys nodded slowly, like he’d been expecting Jack to say that. He stepped close to the metal railing near the glass walls, turning to sit against it. “Helios has, what, twenty _thousand_ people living there? I mean, of course not all of them are Hyperion employees, but a lot are. Here, I have under a thousand people, and this is the largest of our facilities. _And_ that’s just… everyone, that’s my employees as well as their family members living planetside, and then probably fifty to a hundred of them are contracted help and aren’t technically Atlas people.”

Jack sighed. “Get to the point, princess.”

“I don’t have airlocks, Jack. And, even if I did, I don’t have the personnel to spare.” He tapped his fingers together before spreading his hands expansively. “You rule by convincing people that one wrong step will be their last. I can’t do that. So, I had to find other tactics.”

Jack waited, in hopes he would elaborate on that. He knows what it looks like, how everyone perked up when their CEO appeared, like dogs getting a whiff of their next meal. The unsubtle scenting, the way he was _Rhys_ and not something like _Mr. Sommerset_ or at least _your majesty_ , something…

“And this works for you?” Jack asked.

“It does. _Very_ well, actually.” He tipped his head to the side, smile growing. “I think it’s important to enjoy your work.”

Oh, _christ_. Was that what was happening? Like, sure Helios had 36 orgy rooms and Jack sometimes took a break to enjoy the festivities. It was great, having a room full of people eager to please you. But that wasn’t how Jack ran shit and he knew better than using the company pool to get his dick wet.

Rhys, though, covered the walls of his headquarters with talk of loyalty and family, let personnel of all endotypes sidle up to his side to taste the air around him, and was on a first name basis with everyone.

Creepy. Just a little creepy.

Jack was trying to think of a response, because it wasn’t quite _sleeping your way to the top_ , but it was something, something Jack had never seen before. Not in a business setting, anyway.

Rhys watched him expectantly, like he was waiting for his judgement. Before Jack could give it, a sudden harsh shadow fell over the skywalk, drawing his gaze up. He peered up, then lifted a hand to shield his eyes against the glare. It wasn’t a cloud; _something_ was up there, a huge craggy _something_ floating in the air in a way rocks usually didn’t. “The hell is that?”

Rhys followed his gaze, smirking. “Oh. Employee housing.”

Jack cupped his hands around his eyes, squinting up at the shape. “Is that one of those ridiculous mining ships?”

Letting out a hum, Rhys nodded, leaning back, his hand settling against the glass for balance. “I told you I freelanced for DAHL, right? Well, they left a _lot_ of resources on Pandora when Hyperion drove them off. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Sure.” Jack pointed upward. “That’s one _hell_ of a resource.”

Rhys smiled, ducking his head. “I, uh, I didn’t say it was _easy_. But I needed safe housing for my people, and I had data on DAHL’s old operations. One of their flying cities was perfect. Closest one was called Sanctuary.” He folded his arms, a contrite look flashing over his face. “Unfortunately and kinda inevitably, it was, uh… occupied.”

 _Sanctuary_ rang more than a few bells. He couldn’t keep the sneer off his face. “Heard about that one. Bandit forces, a bunch of lowlifes.”

Rhys nodded. “Yep. Though lucky for me, they made a lot of enemies. This was all before I had much backing or my own resources.” The curve of his smile grew rueful, and he clasped his hands together between his knees. “I found another bandit group, the Bloodshots. They had a vendetta against Sanctuary since they’d been kicked out. It took a little… persuasion, but they were willing to work with me.”

That was interesting. Eyebrows lifted, Jack stepped close, silently pleased when Rhys parted his knees to let him in. This was all news to him. Sanctuary had been on his radar for a long time before it suddenly disappeared. “Out of the goodness of their heart?”

That startled a laugh out of Rhys, hard and mean. “There’s no goodness in Flanksteak’s heart. But when they were sufficiently armed, they were able to help secure the city. Then…” He grimaced. “They settled in themselves. Decided to hold it for ransom against Atlas.”

Jack put his hand on Rhys’ knee, thumb rubbing circles. “Bandits always turn on you, babe. Always. What’d they ask for?”

His eyes lowered to Jack’s hand, gaze hooded as he went quiet for a moment. Jack could see the way he swallowed slowly. “Flanksteak wanted an omega from Atlas. But obviously that wasn’t an option. So I went to Sanctuary, let them think I was there to discuss terms, then set all the weaponry they borrowed from Atlas to malfunction en masse. Activated some DAHL defenses with my ECHOeye. Elbie was there to take out the stragglers.” He shook his head, smiling. “Anyway. It’s ours now. Keeps everyone safe in the air. We’ve even gotten it fixed up quite nice. Nothing like your Hub of Heroism, but shops, a very nice bar, and some nice green spaces.”

“An omega,” Jack repeated quietly.

Rhys met his eyes unblinkingly. “Anyway.” He nudged Jack away, climbing off his perch. “We should talk in my office.”

 

* * *

 

Rhys’ office was a good deal more humble than Jack’s.

Which wasn’t saying much, really. There were some palaces that were more humble than Jack’s office.

It sat at the very top of the facility, a long, somewhat narrow room. The word elegant came to mind, as well as _expensive_ because the dark wood parquet floors were made from a red mahogany Jack knew was from Dionysus. The walls were burnt orange, warm like a fireplace. The light was coming from some ambient source, natural looking and warm, which was a good counterpoint to the complete lack of windows. Too easy for snipers, presumably. They had to keep their CEO safe and sound.

Rhys’ desk was clear, orderly in a way that looked artificial. Jack didn’t have much time to focus on that before something came from behind the desk; a small robot built of circles and spheres and spindly little arms rolled out, its blue eyes bright in the mood lighting of the office. “Oh, hi Rhys! You brought a friend today!”

Immediately, Rhys dropped to one knee, closer to eye level with the robot. The thing was annoyingly cute; Jack could see the little superfluous lights the designers had added to serve as the robot’s dimples. It was a calculated brand of adorable.

“Gortys, this is Jack. He’s the head of Hyperion. He’s just here to visit and discuss some business.”

The robot, Gortys, nodded cheerfully. “Oh, okay! Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise, kid,” Jack said, because it was hard to be mean to a face like that, robotic or not. “What are you here for, then? You the secretary?”

“Nope! I was meant to find a Vault, but now Rhys just keeps me around.” Gortys lifted her hand, like she was covering her mouth as she stage whispered. “I think he gets lonely sometimes.”

“Gortys,” Rhys said warningly. His flesh hand came down on top of her head, thumb brushing the grey steel. “Why don’t you and Elbie go check in with robotics? I bet the people down there would like to see you again.”

Gortys turned her luminous eyes between Jack and Rhys for a moment, seeming to contemplate that. “Oh, oh gosh, okay. Totally, I’ll go. You two have fun, okay? Okay.” She tilted her wide head, one of her eyes flashing in what looked like a wink to Jack before she rolled away.

Jack watched Rhys straighten, eyebrows lifted. “That thing finds Vaults.”

“Trade secrets, Jack. I’ll have to take Gortys aside and explain that some things are best kept between us but…” He shrugged. “Anyway. Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure. They get good booze on this planet?”

“Of a sort. Zaford’s make a few different brews. I like their drakefruit moonshine, personally. Sit, Jack, please.” Rhys pointed to the small sofa and armchairs that were set up a ways behind his desk.

Jack dropped himself onto the sofa, arms spreading wide over the back and arm, legs stretched out. It was cozy, with an actual knit thrown slung over the back, and gave him a good view of Rhys’ minibar. “Moonshine isn’t exactly top shelf stuff.”

“Little bit goes a long way. And I have the benefit of fresh fruit. I should show you the greenhouse, it’s great.” He set out two glasses, dropped some blackberries into each before picking up a pestle. He muddled the fruit, humming to himself as he worked.

“So as enlightening as all this has been,” Jack started as he waited, “you and I need to talk. About that e-tech deal.”

Rhys offered a quicksilver smile, adding some kind of syrup and a splash of vivid purple moonshine to each drink. “And why should we do that? I like the arrangement we have. We have a generously cheap license from Hyperion good for the next three years, and thanks to the Vault of the Traveler we now have a surplus of eridium.”

Soda water and ice cubes were added to the drinks before Rhys joined Jack on the sofa, handing him his drink and tucking his legs up under him as he sat, looking pretty and pleased with himself.

The drink was good, strong from just the splash of alcohol added. The fruit was perfectly sweet and something like sage settled over Jack’s tongue as he sipped. He nodded at Rhys silent, questioning look. “You do. That sounds good and all, princess, you made off like a bandit there. Something you’re not keeping in mind though.”

“Oh?” Rhys smiled over his glass.

“If you don’t renegotiate with me now, I’ll screw you over in three years. You weaseled out of competitive pricing then pulled a Vault out of your hat a few months later. You think I’m not gonna rake you over the coals for it, Atlas?"

Taking a healthy sip of his drink, Rhys made a face. “That’s very unsporting of you.”

“So was your little stunt, babe.” Jack shot back. “This doesn’t have to be a fight. I mean, I’m ready to _make_ it a fight if that’s what you want. But you’ve got a new surplus of eridium and whatever else you found in that Vault. And I have e-tech technicians and designers with years more experience than whoever you have.”

Rhys set his drink on the table, turning in his seat to face Jack, drawing one knee up and resting his chin there. “So what is that plan? Do you want to loan us some of your people?”

“And leave them to your tender friggin’ mercies?” Jack sneered. “I don’t think so.”

Rhys blinked, surprised, tipping his head to the side, staring at Jack. “You think I’ll hurt them, Jack? No.” He leaned in, legs folding, his hand bracing him on the back of the sofa as he balanced on his knees. “You’re pissed about something.”

It was a bad idea, but Jack knocked back the rest of his drink, wincing at the sweet burn of it down his throat. His glass was loud against the table as he set it down hard. “No, just curious. You bend over for all the people under your command, Rhysie? Is that an employee incentive at Atlas? You let the faceless alphas around here knot you?”

It was harsh, moreso than Jack meant, but it was like an itch under his skin, the collected scents that hung around Rhys like a cloak, how he’d watched people presume so _much_ from him, and how Rhys allowed it. Encouraged it. Jack wasn’t sure what the hell it was all about, only that he didn’t like it.

Rhys, though, just lifted his chin, defiant. “No, they all had faces. And I know all their names, too. Jealousy is an ugly look on you, Jack.”

All Jack wanted was to wipe that smug fucking look off Rhys’ face. It wasn’t _jealousy_ , it was… it was a great howling thing that made Jack grab Rhys by the collar, dragging him in.

And Rhys seemed _ready_ for that, just wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and breathed heavily against his mouth. His back arched, tipping him over into a controlled fall, right into Jack’s lap.

Flashing his teeth, Jack growled wordlessly and tangled his fingers into Rhys’ hair, pulling. He went so easy, arching, until Jack was so _angry_ , running hot as he yanked Rhys in, unbalancing him. Hand tight on his waist, Jack rolled their hips together, gratified at the loud gasp from Rhys.

He wasn’t going to be just another person Rhys fucked to get an advantage on. He refused. He was Handsome goddamn Jack.

Rhys seemed more than willing to go with it as Jack viciously tugged at his clothes. A few buttons popped, revealing Rhys’ shoulder, and Jack fixed his mouth to the tattooed skin, biting. In his arms, Rhys shuddered, his hands clenching in Jack’s clothes. “Okay, uh,” he managed, voice strangled. “M-maybe it’s not an ugly look at all.”

Clutching Rhys tightly, Jack moved them, pushing forward until Rhys was on his back and under him. He squirmed for a moment until Jack grabbed his wrists, pinned them above his head. A hard gasp knocked out of Rhys as he bit his lip, flushing.

“Tell me, Rhysie,” Jack panted, grinding their hips together. “They do this for you?”

Shutting his eyes, Rhys whined.

Suddenly all the clothes between them were too much, and Jack dragged Rhys’ pants off, lifting his legs in the air as he undressed him. A sharp breath, and Jack could smell Rhys, how heady and hot he was for it. Growling, he used his free hand to squeeze Rhys’ ass, to slip fingers against where he was already slick, the overeager tart that he was.

Jack didn’t waste time being gentle, working his fingers in to the knuckle. Rhys let out a cry, head back against the cushions. “Yeah? Do the other alphas fill you up good, princess? You this _tight_ for them?”

Moaning, Rhys turned his head, licking absently at Jack’s chin, eyes dazed. “No… No, I-- I don’t let them. S’not like that.”

Jack grinned. “So this,” he twisted his fingers, “is all mine?”

Rhys pressed his face to the side, hiding against the cushions, mouth open as he sucked in deep breaths.

That was answer enough. “You naughty little thing,” Jack admonished, slipping his fingers free to unbutton his jeans, freeing his cock. His touch was hot and slippery, and he took a moment to slick himself up. “You’ll let them all scent you. But this is mine, _isn’t it_?”

Rhys let out a pained noise, and it transformed into a full, sweet moan as Jack pressed into him. Rhys jerked his hands free of Jack’s grip, clutching Jack’s shoulders with a thready, “ _Please_ ,” before Jack snapped his hips in and proceeded to fuck Rhys into the sofa.

It was cramped and tight and perfect, Jack chasing his own finish relentlessly with Rhys’ lifting cries in his ear. None was as sweet as the knowledge this was just for him. He knew it. He knew he couldn’t be just another target of the omega’s wiles.

Jack took hold of Rhys’ chin and crushed their lips together as he came, swallowing Rhys’ moans. They were his too.

Sex on an office couch was not the wisest idea Jack had ever had, but it was hard to regret as he listened to Rhys’ breathing, nose tucked against his neck, smelling himself and Rhys and no-one else on his skin.

As they breathed together, Rhys nuzzling against Jack sleepily, Jack murmured, “We should make a new deal. Atlas and Hyperion, we team up for next year’s weapon line. Split the profits forty-sixty.”

Rhys chuckled softly. “You’re not getting me to agree to anything while your knot’s in me.”

Jack snorted, nodding. “Worth a shot.”

 

* * *

 

What Atlas didn’t have handy were guest quarters. So Jack had the honor of sleeping in Rhys’ quarters with that damn loader bot in the next room. The bedroom door wasn’t even shut, and Jack fucking _knew_ it was watching them.

Jack curled around Rhys, holding him warm and soft in his arms, and kept his back to the door. After today, Jack lay awake and wondered if Rhys maybe _did_ like his robots _that way_. The loader bot had a lot of non-standard upgrades, after all…

As he considered that, Rhys’ palm computer turned itself on, a pale blue projection lighting up the room. Jack squinted at it as Rhys stirred under his arm. “Whossat,” he said sleepily, lifting his head.

“Whatever it is, it’s, like, the middle of the night,” Jack pointed out.

“Mmhm,” Rhys hummed, rolling his wrist until he could read the display. “Lab fire. I gotta…” He sighed and nudged Jack’s arm. “C’mon, lemme up.”

Jack rolled over, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Fire, how bad?”

Rhys shuffled over to his robe, draped over the dresser, and dragged it on. “Don’t know. I’ll find out. You can stay, sleep.”

If Jack stayed, his brain would just throw weird images of Rhys and his bot at him. “Nah, I’ll come. In case someone screwed up and you need ‘em taken out.”

“If you touch any of my people, we’re going to have a problem, Jack,” Rhys said seriously, stepping into his slippers. “Let’s go. Hopefully this will be quick.”

Together, they made their way through the hallways of the facility. Many of them had dimmed themselves for the evening, lights along the floor leading the way back to R&D. Jack had taken the time to get his jeans and shirt back on, but Rhys was swimming in overlarge sleepwear. When Jack asked about it, Rhys just smiled. “Oh, most people here have seen me in much less, Jack.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at that, wondering how literal that was, but Rhys didn’t seem to notice at all.

It was a shields lab. If there had been a fire, it was already out, and a few engineers in lab coats stood in the archway door, looking sheepish and slightly singed.

As soon as they approached, one stepped forward. “I am so sorry, Rhys, I’d hoped the alert wouldn’t wake you.”

Rhys waved a hand before curling his fist against his mouth, stifling a yawn. “Jus’... Just tell me what happened, Aubret.”

The egghead bobbed his head. “It was the e-tech inflammable shield. We’ve recut the eridium pieces a few times now, but we can’t remake the prototype. This was the worst iteration, there was an explosion.” Aubret ran his fingers through his hair, shaking slightly. “We got it contained just in time. But it was sloppy.”

Rhys was nodding, a soft concerned set to his face as he listened. As Aubret went on about the difficulties of his project, Rhys ran the backs of his fingers up and down the tech’s arm. Slowly, it soothed the man, who sighed deeply, head hung as Rhys continued his little comforts.

“If no one’s hurt, I want you all to turn in for the night. Let this sit, don’t look at it until you’ve all gotten a solid eight hours. And breakfast.” He smiled. “And I’ll see about getting you some more resources for this. It’ll be fine.”

Aubret smiled back tiredly. “Thank you, Rhys. We’ll get this working, I swear.”

“I know you will. Just not in the next eight hours.” Clapping his hand one last time, Rhys stepped away, leaving them to it.

Jack fell into step with him, settling a hand on the small of his back. “And this… this thing you do,” he asked quietly, “it works?”

“Yes, Jack.” Rhys turned his gentle smile onto Jack. “It really does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written partly while i'm dealing with the aftermath of oral surgery so be kind. /rubs jaw

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [man's best friend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432816) by [lasciel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasciel/pseuds/lasciel)




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